Muggle Magic and Wizard Science
by Ravenwood240
Summary: Hermione is the most Brilliant Witch of her time. Harry is the most powerful Wizard of his time. Together, they can achieve the impossible. The only thing they can't do, is admit how they feel about each other. Formerly known as Harry, Hermione and a
1. Muggle Magic & Wizard Science

_Hermione's brilliance, Harry's Patronus, Muggle science and Magic are going to try and bring back two people dead to the world they know for more than a decade. There will not be a lot of action in this chapter, as it is setting the scene for the rest of the story, and catching the reader up on what has happened since the end of HBP. Have faith though, the task they have set themselves will not be as easy as they think._

_**Science and Magic, Desperation and Despair**_

Hermione Granger was waiting for Harry Potter to come by and take her to some sort of official function. Ever since she had broken off the relationship with Ron Weasley over differences in opinions (_meaning Hermione wanted Ron to have an opinion on something besides Quidditch,_) Harry had used her to keep the hordes of 'idiot women' from swarming over him.

It had been two years since Harry had killed Voldemort on Halloween of what should have been their seventh year. They had gone back to Hogwarts for their seventh year the next year, and Harry had ignored the Ministry affairs and functions then, citing the pressures of the NEWTs as the reason.

Since they had left school though, he had gradually been forced to attend several of them, as his position as the youngest holder of the Order of Merlin, First Class and the newest member of the Wizengamot required that he play the unending and Machiavellian game called politics.

Harry had gone to the first one alone, and been very nearly attacked by women that wanted to be Mrs. Potter, or simply wanted to be his girlfriend, lover or anything else he had in mind.

Harry wasn't interested though, still in mourning over Ginny Weasley, killed in Voldemort's attack on Hogwarts that fateful Halloween. The next time one of those events he couldn't miss had come around, he'd asked his oldest female friend to accompany him, knowing that Hermione at least, would treat him like a man, and not something to be worshipped or possessed.

Hermione smiled briefly at that thought and picked up one of her parent's magazines from the coffee table. Hermione still lived at home with her parents while she attended University, simply because their house was close to the campus and it was a great deal cheaper than a flat.

Hermione was never going to be any type of Muggle medical doctor, but she had a basic understanding of it, from listening to her parents and their friends around the dinner table and at parties. Like most people, the Granger's friends were very similar to themselves, meaning that they were dentists, doctors, nurses or connected in one way or another to medicine.

Until Hermione had gotten a very strange letter one day, followed by a visit from an even stranger person, she'd thought to follow in her parents footsteps and she still tried to keep up with the latest news in medicine.

She was reading an interesting article when the doorbell rang and she answered the door with her head still buried in the magazine. "Hello, Harry," she said absently as she let Harry in.

Harry Potter smiled as he saw a familiar sight. If he ever came over here and Hermione didn't have a book within arm's reach, he'd have her off to St. Mungo's as quick as he could. "Hello Hermione," he said, well aware that she wouldn't have heard him if he said "I'm going to have a baby", at least until she finished whatever she was reading.

He sat down on the couch that had become his favourite sanctuary from the Wizard world and the pressure they put him under. Being the youngest member of the Wizengamot and the youngest holder of the Order of Merlin, First Class was not a picnic in Harry's opinion.

Between the never ending politics, which Harry was beginning to use as a swear word, and the women, he was giving serious thought to becoming a hermit, or pretending to be as crazy as any of the Dumbledore's had ever been.

"_Albus and his brother had the right idea_," he mused, "_act a little different, make people wonder about your sanity, and they'd leave you alone, not knowing what would cause you to turn them into frogs."_

Harry looked up and rose as Mrs. Granger came into the room. "Hello, Mrs. Granger," he said warmly.

Mary Granger smiled at Harry. He was her favourite Wizard in the world, and she wasn't shy about letting him know that. "Hello, Harry. Taking Hermione off to another function?"

Harry grimaced. "The Wizengamot has decided that since I refuse to come out in public on Halloween, that they will celebrate Voldemort's defeat one week early, and I have been 'requested' to be present," he said irritably.

Mrs. Granger frowned. "Tell them to go to hell, Harry. It would do you and them a world of good."

Harry smiled wistfully. "I wish I could, but I finally got the Wizengamot to agree that the other people that fought for Hogwarts that night deserve a reward as well, and they're presenting the awards tonight. In return for that, I have to present them."

Mrs. Granger blinked. She looked at Hermione and back at Harry. He read the look and smirked. He bent over close to Mrs. Granger and whispered in her ear. "Ron and Hermione are getting the Order of Merlin, First Class for their work in helping to destroy the Horcruxes that kept Voldemort alive, and the rest of the DA is getting either second or third class awards."

Harry's face went dark. "Those that died defending the school will get the Order of Merlin, First Class as well."

Mrs Granger sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry. I know what she meant to you."

Harry shook his head, trying to dispel the vision of the young girl that had not survived her third encounter with Voldemort. He looked up as Hermione put the magazine down and looked at him. Hermione might be oblivious to everything when she was reading, but she'd known Harry for nine very intense years and she came over and hugged him as she saw how upset he was. "What idiocy is being fostered off on you now?" she demanded.

Harry grinned at her. "I have to present some awards at the dinner tonight, celebrating the second anniversary of Voldemort's defeat." He hugged her back briefly while she thought about what he'd said.

Harry and Hermione were still only friends as they told their friends. Neither of them was twenty-one yet and neither of them was in any hurry to start dating anyone. Harry had too many obligations and Hermione had a Muggle's attitude, that marriage could wait for after school and her career

Hermione blinked and smiled. "You got the Wizengamot to recognize the DA then?" She froze, staring at Harry. "Harry," she said, staring at him as her mother snickered.

"Yes, Hermione?" Harry said innocently.

She stared at him and groaned. "You got them to give me something, didn't you? After I asked you not to do that."

Harry looked at her sternly. "Yes, I did," he said fiercely, watching her start in surprise at his tone. "I did it for several reasons. First and most important, you deserve as much as anyone to be recognized for your work. Ron and I would never have found and destroyed all the Horcruxes without you, and you know it." Harry stared at her until she looked away, silently admitting he was right.

"Second, as a holder of the Order of Merlin, First Class, you'll automatically get a seat on the Wizengamot, and I need all the help I can get there. The Purebloods still control nearly seventy percent of the seats, and Neville and I aren't making a lot of headway against alliances in place since before we were born."

Harry grinned savagely then. "Last, as the youngest and only living Muggleborn holder of the Order, you'll be a banner for change, change I plan on ramming down the throats of the Wizard world, if I have to personally duel every bloody bigoted, racist arse in the magical world."

Mrs Granger cheered. "Go get them, Harry."

Hermione flashed her mother a glare and turned to face Harry. "I'm not ready for this, I don't have new robes, I haven't done my hair or anything." She glared at Harry when he laughed. "It's not funny. Appearing with you is one thing, they ignore me to talk about you, but this is going to be me on the front page of the Prophet."

Harry was still smiling. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but hearing you channel Lavender like that was just funny." He sighed as she glared at him. "Honestly, Hermione, you're a Witch. Fix your hair. I came over an hour early, just so you'd have time to get ready tonight."

He looked at her fondly. "Did you really think I would allow you, of all people, to be ridiculed by those Politicians?" Harry said politicians in the same tone most people used to describe something smelly on the bottom of their shoe. He reached into his robes and pulled out a package.

He tapped it with his wand and it grew into a much larger package. "I am reliably informed that the robes in here are perfect for you, and quite nice enough to receive any award in." He handed the robes to Hermione and looked at his watch pointedly. "You only have forty minutes left. I would hurry if I were you, or you may still be half naked when we leave."

Hermione turned and started up the stairs only to turn around and glare at Harry. "I'm going to get you for this, Harry." She looked at the robes in her arms and smiled. "Thank you." She went up the stairs and soon Harry could feel the faintest trace of her magic.

Mrs. Granger had watched the byplay with some amusement. "Nicely handled, Harry."

Harry turned innocent eyes on her. "What do you mean, Mrs. Granger? I got Ron some new robes as well, and warned him about tonight, why wouldn't I do the same for Hermione?"

Mrs. Granger checked the stairwell, making sure that Hermione was still upstairs. "And how much of this was due to that article the day after you took Hermione to the Minister's Garden Ball, the one that said she had all the fashion sense of a hedgehog?"

Harry smiled again, only this time, it was not a friendly smile. "Some of it," he admitted, "but we both know that unless you hold her at wand point, she'd rather spend that money on books than new robes that only get worn a few times."

Mrs. Granger smiled. "What is the point of wasting Galleons on something I wear just once or twice, and only to places I don't want to be, to be seen by people I don't like and don't care about?" she said, imitating Hermione very well. "On the other hand, there's a very nice copy of Fickleknocker's "The Arte of Greater Rune Making" in Flourish and Blotts that I could get, and it is ever so much more practical."

Harry was laughing by the time Mrs. Granger finished her mimicry. "Bravo," said Harry, clapping softly. "A stellar performance."

"What tomfoolery is my wife into now?"

Harry turned and grinned at Mr. Granger. "Nothing, really. Just a bit of imitation."

Mr. Granger frowned at his wife suspiciously, although she wasn't doing anything. "I don't actually snore like that," he protested, drawing a strange look from Harry, who had no idea what he was talking about. "She just like to tease me about it."

Harry grinned as he caught the glint in Mrs. Granger's eye. "Actually, she was imitating Hermione," Harry said and turned to Mrs. Granger. "But now that he's mentioned it, I'd like to hear this imitation as well."

Mr Granger looked at the smiles on their faces and sighed. "I stuck my foot in it again, didn't I?"

Harry was about to say something when he caught a motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to look. Hermione was coming down the stairs and Harry just stared for a minute.

Hermione had never been one for dressing up, and the last time Harry had seen her looking like this had been at the Triwizard Tournament Ball. Even then, Harry had noticed she was very different, but he'd not thought of her as beautiful. The graceful young lady that was descending the stairs was beautiful. Her hair was pulled back and tamed with some magic that Harry wished he could use on his hair and light make-up accented the large, warm brown eyes. Her lips were lined in some colour that Harry couldn't name but went well with her colouring in his opinion.

The robes he'd had Lavender and Padma make for her showed him that Hermione no longer rated the title girl. This was a woman, and one that had grown into her own quite well.

Harry shook his head, unaware of the amused look Mrs. Granger was giving him or the glare of Mr. Granger. He met Hermione at the bottom of the stairs and held out his hand. "I have a Portkey, or we can Apparate if you would prefer."

Hermione had seen Harry's look as she descended the stairs and being aware that he saw her as a woman for the first time had made her take a second look at Harry.

Harry would never be the tallest Wizard, but he was a couple of inches taller than she was, and his best feature didn't depend on size anyway. Those eyes, intent and still as vivid as the day she had met him on the train to Hogwarts nine years ago.

Harry had no idea how he affected women when he looked at them, and Hermione wasn't going to tell him. When Harry looked at a person, it was as if you were the only person he saw and it was oddly intimate, even in a crowd of hundreds, as if he erected a barrier between the two of you and the rest of the world. That made a woman feel safe, cherished and warm, and was the main reason that women would do almost anything to get him to notice them.

Add that shock of hair, which was always the same length and just as messy no matter how often it was cut or what magic or Muggle hair treatments were tried and the itch almost every woman got to try and run her fingers through it and straighten it out, and Hermione was always surprised that some woman had not found the key to Harry's heart yet.

She blinked as that thought sent a pang through her. She looked at Harry, not giving any sign of the turmoil rising in her chest as she reached up and tried to make the bangs fall a little more evenly. "Apparation, I think," she said in response to his comment. She smiled at him. "We don't need you falling on your face in front of the Wizengamot," she teased gently, "they might start to think you're not The Man Who Killed Voldemort and Freed The World."

Harry winced at the capitals plain in her tone. "One more comment like that and I'll leave you with Umbridge and Skeeter after you get your award."

Hermione smiled in a way that made Harry stare at her. "Please do, Harry. I have a couple of new spells I could test on them."

Hermione had never forgiven Rita for the stories during fourth year, and she'd never had a chance to show Umbridge exactly what she thought of her treatment of Harry during her tenure as DADA Instructor. Hermione fingered her wand and mentally ran over the spell she was saving for the moment that she could show Umbridge what she thought about her.

Harry touched her cheek hesitantly, calling her back to the present, and Hermione looked up into Harry's eyes. They froze for a long instant, lost in each other's eyes without knowing why, or what had happened to the other person. Harry shook his head, and offered Hermione his arm. "Shall we be off, my lady?" Harry's tone was light, but the oddly intent glance he gave her made Hermione blush for no reason she could name.

She responded in the same tone. "We shall, my lord."

It was Harry's turn to blush as they walked to the door that led to the garage and stepped outside. The two of them were so busy shooting sideways glances at each other that they didn't notice Mrs. Granger pulling Hermione's father back.

They disappeared with a muted crack and Mrs. Granger sighed. "Finally. I was beginning to think they'd never catch on."

Mr. Granger shook his head. "Would you mind explaining to me what you're talking about? All I saw was Harry staring at Hermione and them being themselves."

Mrs. Granger sighed. "Come along, dear, and I'll draw you a picture." She shook her head. "Men."

_**OoOoOoO The Ministry Ballroom. OoOoOoO**_

Harry and Hermione appeared in the Ballroom. As a member of the Wizengamot and his guest, they didn't have to go through the checkpoint where other people got their tags.

They had barely appeared when Harry was being hailed by four or five different people, but Harry and Hermione only heard one voice. "Harry, Hermione!"

They turned and smiled as Ron Weasley came up and grabbed them both in a hug. "How are you guys? Did you see my last game?"

Harry broke the hug and looked at Ron with a smile. Ron had made second string Keeper for his beloved Chudley Cannons after they left school, and a well aimed, or poorly aimed, depending on your viewpoint, Bludger to the Keeper's head had given Ron the job for at least the rest of the year.

He was dressed in the robes Harry had gotten him this time, and that was a good thing, as far as Harry was concerned, since the robes Ron had gotten after he made the team were in the glaring orange of his team, and Harry didn't want a eye strain headache tonight.

Hermione smiled fondly at Ron. They'd parted with a few harsh words, but they'd made up nearly a year ago and they were back to the friends they'd been before fourth year, when they had started having feelings for each other and not known how to express them.

Ron was a great guy, loyal and brave, and with a two track mind. Hermione blushed as she remembered how much she'd liked one of those tracks, but she wanted something more than a purely physical relationship, and while they'd never quite gone all the way, it had been a very close thing a few times.

What had finally broken them up was Ron's obsession with Quidditch when he wasn't snogging or touching her. Hermione had at least a dozen things going at any given time, and she like to talk them out, as it gave her new ideas and avenues to use, but Ron knew nothing but Quidditch, and wouldn't listen when she tried to talk about something else.

Harry was talking Quidditch with Ron and Hermione looked around. It looked like most of their year that had survived that last battle was here tonight, along with quite a few that had been in Ginny's year and Dennis Creevey's year. She sobered for a minute, reminded again of the losses they'd suffered when Voldemort and Snape had led the attack on Hogwarts.

Dennis had fallen early, jumping in front of a Killing Curse aimed at Harry's back and Ginny had been captured by Snape and Draco Malfoy in an effort to get Harry to surrender. It hadn't worked because Ginny had found the strength to throw off the Imperius, and shown Snape just why you didn't want to annoy a Weasley woman. She'd gutted him with a knife from the Potions classroom, an ironic twist that Hermione found only too fitting.

She'd paid for that a minute later as Bellatrix Lestrange killed her, but that had been the turning point of the fight. Harry had gone slightly insane at that point and few people could accurately report what had happened after that. Harry had been everywhere it seemed, and everywhere he went, Death Eaters died until he met Voldemort and Nagini, the last of the Horcruxes in an empty classroom.

What had happened in that classroom was known to only one living being, and Harry simply refused to discuss it. All anyone could say is that Voldemort and Nagini had been fused together, as if splinched together and they were both very, very dead.

The rest of the Death Eater had lost heart when Harry came out of the room, covered in blood and gore, seriously wounded but still alive and carrying Voldemort's head. Six inches of Nagini's tail sticking out of his forehead had convinced even Lucius Malfoy that Voldemort was gone and the only other person to die after that was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Her insanity had not let her quit, and she'd kept fighting until Neville had found her. Hermione would never forget kind, gentle Neville looking at Bellatrix and pointing his wand. "Accio Bellatrix's lungs," was all he'd said, and then he'd stood there, watching as she died, drowning in her own blood, with no lungs to breathe or get off a final curse. Nobody had ever found her lungs, and Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that Neville had kept them to show to his parents, still in the ward at St. Mungo's.

Something about that thought rang a dim bell in the back of her head, but she couldn't place it and a familiar sight made her forget about it. She looked at Harry, making sure the women were leaving him alone still and she stepped over to the man unloading the food for later. She found Lucy, the girl that had been Ginny's room mate and friend and jerked her head at the man she'd seen. Lucy saw him and grinned. She didn't know what Hermione had in mind, but if she wanted help tormenting that git, Lucy was only too happy to help.

Lucy came over and Hermione embraced her. "Hello, Lucy, how are you?" Hermione was talking to Lucy, but her attention was on the thin man and it was rewarded when he heard her voice. He jerked and then stiffened, fighting the urge to turn around.

Lucy and Hermione chatted for a minute, always staying in earshot of their victim. "Anyway, did you hear what Harry is doing with Malfoy Manor?"

Draco Malfoy flinched again and the two women could hear his teeth grinding. No one knew exactly what Harry had done to him, not even Harry. Harry had found him after Ginny's death and he'd been so angry that all he could think of was revenge.

He'd pointed his wand at Draco and said just that. The rush of magic that had speared Draco had done three things to him. Draco was as ugly as his soul had ever been. Eyes off-centred, with snake pupils and a mouth that could make children cry even when he was smiling, something he didn't do a lot of these days. Add hair even greasier than Snape's had been and a complexion consisting mostly of weeping sores and Draco was quite ugly enough to make people vomit.

Draco was also shrinking slowly, losing about ten centimetres a year. Harry had no idea if it would ever stop, but Hermione suspected it would, as soon as Draco was smaller than Dobby.

It was the last thing that had pulled Draco's teeth and made him completely harmless. Draco could no longer cause anything pain in any fashion. Merely swatting a fly would put him in St. Mungo's for an entire day, in a pain no Potion could relieve. Causing pain, physical, mental or emotional to anything bigger than a fly caused a correspondingly larger amount of pain.

He paid over the rest of the Malfoy estate during the year that Harry was in Hogwarts to avoid Azkaban, and now he was even poorer than the Weasleys, whose fortunes had turned with the end of the war.

Lucy looked at Hermione with a smile, knowing that everything Hermione had done had led to this. "No, I haven't heard. Do tell."

Hermione smiled. "Harry used the Black fortune to fund a Muggleborn school, where Muggles with Wizard children could come and learn about the Wizard world. It's on the old Malfoy estate. There is also a charity hospital there and a retirement home for House Elves that are too old to work."

Draco was nearly quivering with suppressed fury now, and Hermione smiled. "Next week, Harry plans to announce the opening of the grounds to Werewolves during the full moon, and he's going to start a project of mine out there after that." Hermione listened to Draco snarling under his breath for a minute and gave Lucy the final bit of news. "The Centre For Racial Equality is going to fight for the rights of all sentient creatures, no matter what their shape. Goblins, Centaurs, Merfolk, House Elves, all of them will be welcome there. Harry's giving me the entire bedroom wing for my offices."

Draco turned to Hermione and his face was so filled with rage that Hermione was certain he was about to try and strike her, curse or no curse. "Are you quite done rubbing my nose in how far I've fallen?" he asked bitterly.

Hermione looked at the scum who had made Professor Dumbledore's death possible and done a dozen more crimes that couldn't be proven, as all the witnesses were dead, as well as his part in Ginny's death. "No," she said frankly, "I want you to go to your grave, knowing that Muggles and Mudbloods are in your home, and that I will make sure that your room is turned into a toilet for the non humans." Hermione used the term he'd used on her in school with relish, and saw Draco's awareness of why she'd used a word that had fallen out of favour in the wizard world, at least openly.

Hermione was fairly certain that many of the Purebloods still used it at home, but since Harry had started simply hexing anyone he heard using the term, turning them into twenty centimetre slugs, people were a lot more careful about using it in public. The Weasley twins had picked up the habit as well and Hermione had seen in the Prophet that Neville had started doing it also.

Draco quivered, and Hermione could see the urge to strike her filling him, but Draco had learned better. He fought it down and turned away.

"By the way, Draco," came a new voice and Hermione turned to see Harry watching Draco with a grim smile. "I'm sure you're learning to be a useful member of society and I'm willing to offer you a job at Malfoy Manor. I need a kennel boy to help Hagrid with some of the animals."

Draco had frozen at the sound of Harry's voice and when Harry was finished he turned again. "What would it take for you to leave me alone, Potter? Hasn't your curse done enough to me?"

Harry looked at him. "No. It will only be enough when you have felt as much pain as you made others feel during your life. Then you can die for all I care." Harry examined Draco critically, seeing the hatred Draco still held onto. Harry sighed. "Letting go of your hate, and your fear would be a good first step, Malfoy. As long as your heart is an ugly place, your exterior will match it. As you heal the damage your heart does, your body will follow."

Draco stared at Harry, a touch of hope in his eyes. "So if I can become like the rest of you, this," he indicated his face, "will change."

Harry nodded. "I'm not sure how I did it, but I made your outside match the ugliness that I saw inside you. Change the inside, and the outside will follow."

Draco stared at Harry. "Only you could create a curse and not know how you did it."

"Are you ever going to let me kill him, Harry?"

Harry turned and looked at Neville. "I've told you that so long as he is under my curse, he is under my protection."

Draco was staring at Harry, hate, anger, fear and a touch of wonder warring in his face. "You're protecting me?"

Harry simply nodded and walked away, holding Hermione's hand tightly. When they were a ways away from Draco and Neville, Harry sighed and turned to Hermione. "Hold still," he said in a low tone and swept her into a hug.

Hermione automatically put her arms around Harry and then she felt the shivers in Harry. She tightened her grip on him, and he buried his head in her neck and sighed heavily.

Hermione was very glad that she was facing away from the crowd just then because when she felt Harry's breath across her skin and ear, she knew her eyes widened, giving her the look of a small animal caught in oncoming headlights. They stood like that for a couple of minutes and then Harry let her go.

"Every time I see him, I have to convince myself not to kill him again." Harry was looking at something inside himself and not liking what he saw, Hermione realized and she poked him in the ribs.

Harry jumped, turning injured eyes on her and Hermione glared at him. "Listen to me, Harry. Everyone wants to kill him, and the only reason most of us haven't is because nobody wants to face your wrath when you find out who killed him. That you can limit yourself to mere words is amazing, considering the part he played in Ginny's death."

Harry flinched and his eyes grew cold again. He looked around the room, but Draco was gone. He was about to say something when they were interrupted. "Harry, you know you're sitting with us tonight, don't you?"

Harry smiled at Neville and Luna. "Why, yes, I did know that, since I made the seating chart for the people to be honoured tonight." He grinned at Neville's expression of relief. "No politicians at the table tonight. Just Ron and whatever Quidditch girl he brought, you and Luna, Hermione and I," Harry paused, his face going dark. "And two empty seats, one to represent all the women that couldn't be here and one for the men."

The four of them sobered as they thought about the only member of the Ministry Crew that hadn't made it to this night. Harry looked at the table. "I left them open for all the people killed by Voldemort, but to me, those seats will be occupied by Ginny and Dennis."

Ron was looking inside himself. "Ginny and Percy."

Percy Weasley had been one of the biggest surprises to come out of the war. Percy had been recruited by the Unspeakables in his last three months at Hogwarts, who saw his fussy nature as the perfect spy to send into the Ministry. The Unspeakables were the ones charged with keeping corruption out of the Ministry, and they had needed a spy. Percy had been perfect, and he'd played his part so well that it was only after the war was over that anyone, including his family knew that he'd been a spy against Voldemort's people in the Ministry.

By then, it was too late for Percy, as Voldemort had caught him in mid October. Draco had testified before the Wizengamot that even under repeated torture, Percy never broke, his resistance to breaking rules staying with him until the very end.

When Percy felt his Occlumency shields slipping under the pain, he'd done something that had put him on a pedestal for the twins. He'd waited for Voldemort to get close and pulled one of Fred and George's inventions from his pocket. He'd slapped the small lump on Voldemort and in the testimony of the only survivor of that day, told Voldemort to "Bugger off".

Draco, the sole survivor of that event, had smiled at the next memory. The lump Percy had put on Voldemort's foot was a prank from Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and a second after he placed it, Voldemort, Tom Riddle, You-Know-Who, The Dark Lord, whatever you wanted to call him, was a large pile of steaming lime green coloured poop, complete with odour.

It was only an illusion, and it had gotten Percy killed in an instant, but that was what Percy had wanted, so that he wouldn't give up any information on his fellow Unspeakables.

It had taken six hours for every member of the Wizengamot to view Draco's memory of that particular incident, and as the word spread about the Boy Who Pranked, the WWW was inundated with requests for that prank. Now called "You Know Poop", it was still a best seller.

Neville looked at Harry. "I knew a lot of the guys that won't be able to be here, and Ginny was special to me, but you know who will be in those seats for me."

All four of them knew that story. Neville's parents had been Aurors at the end of the first Voldemort war, and the Lestranges had tortured them into insanity, trying to find out what had happened to Voldemort at Godric's Hollow. They were still in the Long Term Care ward at St. Mungo's.

With proper care and a Wizard's lifespan, they might be there another seventy years. Neville still went and visited them faithfully once a week.

Hermione heard that bell in the back of her head again, something she had thought about was trying to connect to something else in her head and Hermione began methodically going over everything she'd done in the last couple of days, trying to figure out what her subconscious was trying to tell her.

Harry looked at Hermione and noted the look of concentration. He leaned over to say something to her and she turned toward him to ask if they could sit down so she could concentrate, and once again they ended up face to face and caught in each other's eyes.

Ginny's eyes had been brown, but they were a changing brown, lightening and darkening with her moods. Hermione's eyes were not like that, just a nice steady brown, that showed what she was thinking as reliably as if she was telling you.

At least, that was what Harry had thought, but now those reliable eyes were showing him things he didn't understand, that raised feelings in him that he didn't know how to deal with.

Hermione had seen Harry in a crush, and in love with Ginny and she thought she'd seen all the shades of green that Harry's eyes could become, from the burning green of fighting Harry, locked in battle with Voldemort and Death Eaters, to the shining green of happy Harry, sitting in a chair in the Gryffindor common room with Ginny in his lap, in those short few days they had been together openly, before the death of Professor Dumbledore.

She'd seen a lot of the shades of green that Harry's eyes could be, but this this hue was new to her, having never been the target of Harry in love, and it confused her.

Neville and Luna watched them for a second and then shared a smile. Luna cocked her head and smiled, and that smile had never changed. It was still the dreamy expression of someone that wasn't quite in the world the rest of us live in. "Why, Mr. Longbottom, I believe the Nargles have eaten the cotton from their minds."

Neville took her hand. "Mrs. Longbottom, I think you could be right. Can we still catch one, do you think?"

Neville and Luna had spend nearly a month in Madame Pomfrey's care after the Halloween battle and they had come out of there with a relationship starting and an agreement that boggled the mind of many. Neville, practical and pragmatic Neville, accepted Luna's creatures at her word and even helped her in her attempts to catch them.

He also had a thriving business growing potion supplies for Hogwarts and St. Mungo's, so his grandmother left the couple in peace mostly. How Neville and his grandmother had come to an understanding was a topic of much debate. When she was introduced to Luna, Mrs. Longbottom had attempted to hex Luna, a feat foiled only by her grandson jumping in front of the hex, and Mrs. Longbottom had taken her grandcabbage, er, grandson home to fix.

No one but Neville and his grandmother knew what happened in their mansion over the next four days, but on the fifth day after school ended, Neville had shown up at Luna's and proposed.

Mrs. Longbottom had been getting a team of building Wizards to rebuilt the east wing of the mansion, which according to her, had been damaged in a potion mishap. One of the builders that rebuilt the mansion though, had been Gerry Wincherts, a member of the DA and year mate of Ginny's from Hufflepuff. He'd told Harry privately that there had been one hell of a battle in that wing, judging by the scorch marks, damage and residue left behind.

Harry had mentioned that to Neville once, after the youngest Longbottoms had returned from their honeymoon and Neville had merely shrugged. "Grandmother has always complained that I was not assertive enough. I just never had anything I wanted to fight for before."

Luna and Neville watched as Harry and Hermione stared at each other, totally oblivious even to their teasing. The flash of a photographer brought Harry out of it.

He spun, reflexes learned of years of fighting for his life spinning him in front of Hermione, his wand up and tracking on the man standing there. "Harry! It's me! The Agreement!"

Harry's wand tilted up and his curse, whatever it was struck the ceiling, where it appeared to do no damage. Harry stared at Colin Creevey and frowned. "Damn it, Colin, how many times do I have to tell you that I want to know when you're taking your weekly picture?"

Colin checked his camera first and then made sure he had all of his parts. He answered Harry while he patted himself down. "And how many times do I have to tell you that nobody wants a picture of Harry Potter that is glaring at them as if they were thinking about becoming the next Dark Lord?"

"I am not that bad," protested Harry. He turned to his friends for support. "I don't look that bad in the official pictures, do I?"

Neville blinked and looked at the ceiling. "Will whatever spell you cast do anything to the ceiling? I'd hate for it to fall on us during dinner."

Hermione was scratching her nose and avoiding his eyes. "You are somewhat intimidating in many of them, Harry."

Luna was still smiling at them both. "What Hermione is trying to say gently, Harry, is that Dementors run from your official pictures and they have been known to give minor criminals in the Ministry building nightmares."

Harry looked at them, finally turning to Hermione. He raised her chin with his hand, ignoring the heat that spread through him from where he touched her. "Hermione?" he said, asking for the truth with his eyes.

Hermione sighed, looking at Harry. "Harry, do you remember that picture they made you take, in front of the memorial?"

Harry frowned. That memorial was a sore point with him and most people avoided mentioning it in his presence. It had been a statue of Harry standing over several of the more important people that had fallen in the Voldemort war, protecting them. That the representation of Harry had been nearly three metres tall had grated on Harry, but that not one of the people under him had been any of the students that had fallen defending Hogwarts had been the worst, in Harry's mind.

Three days later, in the middle of the night, it had somehow become a Black obelisk, with the pictures and names of all the people that had died in both Voldemort wars cycling on all four sides. Harry had very publicly been at Ron's first full Quidditch match that night, and no one had even claimed credit for the change, but it resisted every attempt to change it back and finally it was left that way.

Harry shook off the thoughts of the memorial and looked at Hermione. "Yes," he said shortly.

Hermione frowned. Harry was not happy. "Harry," she said as gently as she could, "they had to take all of the copies of that picture down from display, since none of the other people in the picture would stay in the frame with you, and small children tend to scream when they see that picture."

Harry stared at her, and then looked at the rest of the group, seeking confirmation. Neville flushed as Luna spoke up again. "Neville uses one of those pictures to keep bugs away from some of his plants. It makes a wonderful scarecrow."

Harry stared at Neville who was intently examining the floor, but the red colour of his face said everything Harry needed to know. "Harry," Colin said, having made sure he was intact, "I risk my limbs taking the candid pictures of you because if you know I'm taking your picture, you act as though the camera is Voldemort, and nobody wants to see what you looked like when you fought him. It's bloody scary, mate."

Harry sighed. "Thank you all for telling me about this," he said, "but it would have been nice to know a year ago."

Colin laughed. "You're kidding right, Harry? Haven't you noticed that there is never a photographer around at these events except me? Every photojournalist in the world knows about Maynard Drimble, and none of them want to have that happen to them. I wouldn't be here if we didn't have that agreement, and if the Prophet wasn't so desperate for pictures of you that they pay me insane amounts of money."

Harry bristled. "That prat surprised me, in the bathroom of all places, and flashed a camera in my face, just three days after the Hogwarts battle. He's damn lucky to have survived."

Colin winced, shivering as he thought about what Harry had done. "Harry," he said in a pained voice, "I like my camera, but please don't ever introduce it to me in quite such an intimate manner. It took St. Mungo's four days to get it out of him, and he wears a diaper to this day."

Harry shrugged. "He has learned his lesson, I hope, and doesn't chase people into the loo."

Colin gave Harry a strange look. "Harry, he doesn't take pictures any more. He's developed quite a fear of cameras and bright lights." Colin thought about that. "And vivid green eyes, as well."

Harry looked troubled and was about to say something when the chime sounded, signalling the start of the dinner. Harry held out his arm for Hermione who took it absently. Harry looked at Hermione while they walked to the table. He knew that look. He'd seen it in first year, as she worked out the Potions and logic trap guarding the Philosopher's Stone, and again in second year, as she put the pieces together just before the Basilisk had petrified her.

He'd seen it a dozen or more times since then as well, and it meant she had all the pieces to a puzzle and was trying to make them fit together so she could present a finished answer to someone. In this condition, she reminded Harry of Luna, as neither of them were quite in the same world with everyone else.

He just smiled though, and led her to the table and sat down after seating her. He looked at the empty seat next to him and stood up. "Before we begin honouring everyone that should be recognized tonight," he said, threading his voice with a bit of magic, making everyone in the hall pay attention to him, "I wish to make an announcement. These two empty seats are for all the men and women that could not be here tonight because they died defending all of us."

Harry looked up. "As we honour those who survived the war, I ask you to take a minute to remember those who fell as well. We who fought in that war paid a great price to come to this night, but these seats are for those who paid the ultimate price." Harry pulled his wand, not noticing that a great many people flinched when he did so and cast a spell on the two seats.

The chairs disappeared, and in their place were small replicas of the Obelisk. Harry looked at it and then looked up with a smile. "I will say this only once, but I wish to thank whoever changed that Memorial. It was a travesty and the new design in far better." He turned and raised his wand in a Dueller's salute to the Obelisks. "So long as I live, your sacrifice shall never be forgotten."

He dropped the salute and sat down, looking at Hermione who was smiling at him. "Harry," she said in a low tone, that didn't even carry to the other people sitting at the table, "You're going to teach me that pay attention thing you do." She waited until he nodded, and then smiled. "And thank you."

Harry grinned at her. "You forget," he said, smiling, "I've seen Appendix C, "Victims of the Voldemort War." He grinned at her blank expression. "You made a little mistake in one section. Alexandra Monroe should be after Alexander Monroe, and when you made the list for the monument, you copied it from the appendix."

Hermione sighed. "I have corrected that, in the book. I never realized how hard writing was until I started this. I have a new respect for writers."

Harry snorted. "I have a respect for writers that try to get the facts. If I ever get my hands on Siralinda Muckraker." Harry left unsaid what would happen to her, but Hermione was in complete agreement about this.

Siralinda Muckraker had slapped a few facts and a lot of fiction together and called it a "Biography of the Heroes". Harry and almost every member of the Order of the Phoenix and the DA had spent the next week hunting the woman, fully intent on doing things to her that would be remembered for thousands of years. She was still in hiding, because while they weren't going to be quite as drastic, almost every survivor of the Voldemort war that had fought still wanted to do things to her. Possibly the nicest thing she'd implied in the book was that Harry, Hermione and Ron were a true threesome, not at all worried about which of them was doing what to who.

Harry and Hermione's thoughts of revenge were broken then as Minister Shacklebolt stood up. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we have gathered here tonight to honour many people, and not the least of them are the ones that are not here to be honoured, as Mr. Potter reminded us."

Kingsley Shacklebolt had been chosen as Minister after the death of Rufus Scrimgeour at the hands of Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy had tried to bribe his way back into power, and the Minister had flatly refused. Lucius had then pulled a hidden knife and stabbed him. Using a mundane tool like that prevented the alarms that would have gone off if he used magic.

He might have escaped, if the next person waiting to see the minister hadn't been Tonks. Living in a body that was a constant disguise, she had recognized that the man that stepped out of the Minister's office was in disguise and stopped him. One minute later, Lucius was in custody and the body was found shortly thereafter.

With most of the Ministry too scared to take such a visible target, and most of the ones that weren't being sympathetic to Voldemort, the Wizengamot hadn't had much of a choice in choosing the next Minister. Harry had written, or to be honest, Hermione had written a strong letter recommending Shacklebolt and Harry had signed it.

Shacklebolt still wasn't sure if he should thank Harry or hex him for that.

Harry smiled at him as he continued. "Fortunately, many of the people that fought against Voldemort are still here to be honoured, and Mr. Potter has been unceasing in his efforts to get them the recognition they so richly deserve." He looked up. "First, we will list those who are not here to accept their awards. High on this list are four people whom all of us owe a great deal to."

Harry frowned. He didn't know where Shacklebolt was going with this, but he had a feeling he was going to hate it.

Minister Shacklebolt went on to detail the prophecy that had made Harry's life hell for so many years. "That prophecy could have applied to just two people. Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. Voldemort decided to kill Harry Potter, judging him the greater threat, and we all know what happened after that. James and Lily Potter fought in the first phase of the Voldemort war, and did so in a manner that made Voldemort count them a greater threat than the Longbottoms, who were Aurors. For their efforts, I will now ask Mr. Potter to accept their Order of Merlin, First Class."

Harry stood up, his eyes stinging. He joined Kingsley on the stage and looked out over the crowd, almost all of whom he knew, either from the war or from the Wizengamot. "Friends and neighbours, I will accept these for my parents, and thank you for them, since they cannot be here to say anything." He looked up, searching the crowd. "All in all, you will forgive me if I would rather had had them with me for the last eighteen years."

He started to leave the stage but Kingsley stopped him. "You're presenting the awards, Harry, you might as well stay here." he said in a low voice. Kingsley stepped up again. "Mr. Potter has graciously agreed to present the awards to the people that have earned them."

Harry's friends looked at each other and smiled. Graciously? They looked at Harry, who was turning a red to rival a Weasley's hair to find himself the target of so many eyes. His friends looked at each other again and grinned. Harry had been blackmailed somehow was the general consensus.

They turned their attention back to the Minister as he began a long roll call of medals that would be accepted by their next of kin. "Longbottom, Alice and Frank." Neville stood up and solemnly accepted the ribbons from Harry.

Harry shook a great many hands and expressed his condolences to dozens of people over the next hour, until they neared the end of the list. "Weasley, Ginny."

Harry flinched, even though he'd known this was coming. It had taken a rather serious threat to make sure that the Minister used Ginny's preferred name rather than her full name. Harry looked up and offered the ribbon to Molly. "I have offered comfort to a lot of people today," he said quietly, "but for your loss, I don't have the words to express the depths of my sorrow."

Molly looked at Harry and they hugged, tears falling from both of them as they mourned the spirited girl that had never backed away from any challenge, even when she knew the cost.

Harry released Molly and stopped her when she started to leave. "You might as well stay here," he said.

"Weasley, Percy." Molly burst into tears again as she took the ribbon from Harry.

Harry embraced her again. "In many ways, Percy had the hardest job of all, because it kept him from the family he loved so dearly."

Molly sobbed. "I never got to say goodbye to him."

Harry blinked down more tears, feeling the pain of the woman that had mothered him when he needed it, and still did when he showed up on her door. He knew better than most how empty the words were in the face of pain, but like hundreds of people before him, he had nothing else to offer. "I'm sure Percy knows how you feel." Harry frowned then and lowered his voice even more. "Where's Arthur?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "He got called into work about an hour ago. Somebody enchanted a store full of Muggle toys to attack anyone that entered, and he had to go deal with it." Molly sighed. "He's happier there anyway. You know he's never accepted his little girl's passing."

Harry nodded. Arthur still spoke as if Ginny was simply at Hogwarts, and would be back 'soon'. He hid the smile at the thought of Arthur chasing dozens of toys around a store, spending as much time examining them as stopping them, as he was undoubtedly doing right now.

The posthumous awards were over shortly thereafter and they had a quiet dinner before honouring the living.

Harry was slightly cheered to see how many of them there were, offsetting the pain of the first half of the awards.

He knew most of them, except a few of the Aurors, and he could offer them a personal word or two.

Padma Patil, still looking incomplete without Parvati.

Blaise Zabini, the only seventh year Slytherin to fight for Hogwarts in the battle and a large part of the victory over the students that had turned to Voldemort in Hogwarts. When Blaise had decided to fight for the Light Side in the war, he hadn't told anyone while he thought about how to make the most of his skills and abilities. In the end, he'd done a very Slytherin thing. Blaise had very pragmatically poisoned the entire Slytherin house, with an exotic poison that was harmless, unless another poison was applied to the skin.

After the students of Slytherin had declared their loyalties, for or against Hogwarts, Blaise had simply opened up on the junior Death Eaters with a Seltzer bottle filled with water and the contact poison.

Harry still smiled at the thought of Pansy Parkinson running down the hall, pursued by Blaise, who was menacing her with a spray bottle.

Colin Creevy, who had done very little fighting, but whose pictures of the battle showed that he had been every where, and that he had an eye for the powerful picture. Ginny, gutting Snape, with a look of resignation, but no fear. Dennis, saving Harry. Ron leading a dozen DA members on broomsticks over the roofs in an inspired flanking manoeuvre. Madame Pomfrey, desperately trying to hold a student's intestines in their body, casting spells with her wand in her teeth as a Death Eater pointed his wand at her back. These and a dozen more had made Colin's fortune and reputation. There was only one picture he had never shown anyone except Harry, who had the picture now, hidden in his vault.

Harry, ramming Voldemort's head on a spike Hermione had conjured from the floor of the great Hall. The look on Harry's face, of loss and despair, anger and hate, relief and happiness, a dozen conflicting emotions, had been so powerful that Colin had judged that picture a moment that Harry would have to share, if he wanted to.

Giving Harry that picture and Dennis' sacrifice was why Colin was allowed to take one picture a week of Harry, without having to try and escape Harry's idea of justice for people that took his picture without permission.

The roll of people went on. Tonks, Fletcher, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, missing an arm, but able to say he'd single handedly stopped three giants that night. Professor Sprout, who's luring of a dozen Death Eaters into her private greenhouse had raised eyebrows, unless you knew that it was private because she kept plants in there judged too dangerous for the students to learn about.

Professor Sprout had come out of the green house. None of the Death Eaters had, although students claimed that sometimes, late at night, you could still hear screaming coming from the greenhouse. No one was really curious enough to go in there and see what caused it. Professor Sprout's reputation with the students had gone up quite a bit after that story had gotten around.

Many of the students who had been fifth through seventh years, and a few from lower years, including one of Harry's favourites, although he never told anyone.

Sheila Fizzlenip might have an odd name, and she might have been a first year Hufflepuff, but when Death Eaters attacked her school, she stood up and fought, the only way she could. She called the House Elves together and directed them in dropping pots of boiling fluids, spreading slicks on stairs and generally causing mayhem. Peeves had enjoyed her antics so much that night that he had promised not to harass her for her entire time at Hogwarts.

Harry gave her her Order of Merlin, Third Class and was pleased to see that she didn't look all googly eyed at him. He bent down and whispered in her ear. "Tell your troops that I couldn't convince the Wizengamot that House Elves deserved the Order of Merlin, but that I will be by in a week or so to give them my own personal award, the Order of Hogwarts, with Headmistress McGonagall's full support."

Sheila smiled at Harry and then frowned, pouting. "Don't I get one of those? I fought for Hogwarts too."

Harry grinned. "Can you keep a secret?" At Sheila's eager nod, Harry knelt and told her, "every student and teacher that fought for Hogwarts is going to get one, and here after, it will be an award for those people connected to the school that do great things."

Sheila smiled, and then looked at Harry with an impish grin. "So, how many are you getting?"

Harry sighed, rolling his eyes. "I have awards, and I don't need any more of them."

The young girl looked at him seriously. "Mr Potter, if you don't deserve one for what you did for Hogwarts that night, how can I, who did so much less, accept one?"

Harry blinked, looking at the third year student. "I'll think about that, but I think the people want us to move along." Harry stood up. "I will think about it, and we'll talk again."

After the awards were over, there was an hour or so of mingling and dancing, which Harry sat out. When it came to fighting Death Eaters, Harry had no peer, but his dancing had not improved since fourth year. He spent most of the night chatting with people that came by and watching Hermione.

Hermione was growing increasingly annoyed with herself. She had the beginnings of a plan, but she was missing the last little piece to make it work. She knew what she needed, but she simply didn't know how to make it work.

Someone had said something tonight, something she could use and she went back over everything she'd heard tonight. It came to her then, a flash of inspiration as she remembered the conversation about Harry's pictures.

She frowned and transformed her fork into a pen. She started making notes on her napkin, and stopped. Harry was holding out a small notepad. "I've seen that look before, and you might want to use your napkin to wipe the corner of your mouth."

Hermione took the notepad and started scribbling again, trying to get her idea down and begin putting it in order so she could start researching the things she would need. She stopped a second later as something moved in her line of sight. She looked up, and was caught in Harry's smile as he used his napkin to wipe the corner of her mouth. She blinked and shook it off. She didn't have time for this, she was working.

Harry handed Hermione the notepad and smiled as she ignored the advice about using her napkin. Acting on impulse, he reached out and wiped the offending bit away, smiling as she looked up with that look he'd seen so many times, usually directed at Ron. Hermione hated to be interrupted in her research, and her look was equal parts annoyance, curiosity and confusion as her concentration was broken. She shook her head and went back to work as he smiled fondly at her.

The celebration was very reserved, unlike the wild parties that would be thrown in a week's time, on the second anniversary of Voldemort's death, and Harry could watch Hermione write furiously in between people that came up to talk to him.

Since people were beginning to understand that Harry would not tolerate gushing or hero worship, the only real annoyance he had to put up with these days were politicians, trying to get his support for whatever bill they were presenting to the Wizengamot and women.

Harry was rich, famous and good looking, with a romantic reputation that was a challenge to a certain type of woman. Everyone knew that he still mourned Ginny Weasley, and those woman that still approached him were determined to be the one that broke that mourning.

Usually, Hermione ran interference for him, but tonight she didn't even see them. Harry would be polite for a few seconds, and then start to get irritated. Since his friends didn't want to deal with the remains of whatever hex Harry would use on the woman, they tried to intercede about then.

Most of the time, they were successful, but occasionally, a woman would be stupid enough, or determined enough to continue to press Harry. Harry's latest tactic was to hex the woman with a spell that made her tell the truth, and nothing else. It also forced her to say whatever was on her mind at any given time. That spell, and Harry's friends managed to keep the women down to acceptable levels tonight as Harry spent most of the night watching Hermione and conjuring more paper for her.

Harry was beginning to get interested in whatever she was working on. He'd never seen her make this many notes on anything, not even the Horcruxes during the hunt, and the few glimpses he had of her notes seemed to combine Muggle science with magic.

He didn't dare try to look closer at them, as he and Ron had learned long ago that Hermione was a bit daft about not allowing them to look at her raw notes. She'd admitted once that she hated having people see her mistakes, and since the notes would have errors, in theory or possibilities, she refused to let anyone see them.

Since Hermione had a number of rather disturbing curses to enforce her will with, including Ginny's old Bat Bogey Hex, which Hermione used in her memory, Ron and Harry had learned to keep their noses out of her notes until she was ready to show them. She only showed them the finished notes, and they pretended that they never heard her swearing when something didn't work out, and all of them were happy.

Ron Weasley grinned as he looked at Hermione. He looked at Harry. "Old times, eh mate?"

Harry smiled, remembering many nights of waiting for Hermione to work out the latest Horcrux puzzle and watching her write like she was now. He flipped a glance over Ron's girl of the week, yet another Quidditch-obsessed fan girl that could talk Quidditch and the players for hours, but probably couldn't name the Minister of Magic.

Since breaking up with Hermione, Ron had decided that he was too young to settle down, and he was perfectly willing to take advantage of his fame and his Keeper position to collect a new girl whenever the last one bored him. Harry didn't understand that attitude, but it wasn't his life, so he kept quiet.

At the end of the evening, Harry took Hermione and nearly fifty pages of notes home, smiling at her distracted good night and the kiss she gave him, brushing her lips on his cheek, as she had every night that he took her anywhere.

He went home, thinking no more about it, until he got a Fire call from her three days later. "Harry, I need you to come over to my place and look at something."

Harry blinked as her tone and tension caught his attention. "What is it, Hermione? Is everyone OK?"

Hermione looked at him from the coals of the fire and bit her lip. "If I'm right, Harry, I think we can give Neville his parents back, intact and sane."

_**OoOoOoO Author's Notes. OoOoOoO**_

_Lots of background in this chapter, because this is only the first of several Harry and Hermione stories I have rolling around in the back of my head. There are at least two more... and we may even see Harry and Hermione figure out that their best friend is also their love._

_Raven_


	2. Planning and Permissions

_Here we go, off into some of the possibilities of combining Science and Magic. Everyone knows that Neville's parents are there, but not there, due to the damage they sustained. Hermione wants to change that, by removing the damage. For those of you that are reading this who may have more than a layman's knowledge of the Muggle subjects I'm using, be nice. I am a Laywoman in these particular subjects, running on a Google and a couple of articles I read. Now, let's find out what Hermione wants to do._

_**Muggle Magic & Wizard Science**_

_**Chapter Two**_

_**Planning and Permissions **_

Harry blinked, staring at Hermione's image in the coals of the fire. "I'll be there in about five minutes," he said and Hermione nodded and disappeared from Harry's fireplace. Harry stood up and went into his study in the rebuilt Godric's Hollow.

He frowned as he tried to figure out what Hermione had in mind. Neville's parents had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange at the end of the first Voldemort War, when the Death Eaters were looking for information about what had happened to Voldemort at this very house.

Harry spent a great deal of his spare time researching the Dark Arts these days, rebuilding an effective lesson plan for the Defence Against the Dark Arts classes at Hogwarts. With Voldemort's death, the curse that had plagued the position had disappeared and while having the same teacher each year was helpful, it had been so long since there was a standard seven year curriculum that Harry was quite literally making it up as he went along.

Headmistress McGonagall had asked him to make the plan after he received the first and only NEWT result of an O, in both the practical and the written. That at least one of those pluses was for killing Voldemort was a given, but even without that, Harry was a gifted instructor.

That was how Professor McGonagall had managed to get Harry the position of DADA Instructor, despite his youth and relative inexperience.

Harry grabbed a small black book, one that made his skin crawl every time he touched it. Voldemort had been a brilliant man, as his experiments in Horcruxes showed, and this book was his, notes on using and improving the Cruciatus Curse, among other, darker things. Harry had claimed all of Voldemort's journals and books after the war, intent on destroying them, until Hermione convinced him that they had to know how to stop some of the things he'd created.

Not all of the Death Eaters had been captured or died, and some of them almost had to be planning to try and take Voldemort's place. Knowing the worst that they could do would make it easier to stop them before they became the next Dark Lord.

Harry spent a minute refreshing what he knew about Cruciatus damage. It destroyed the nerves, which everyone knew, but beyond that, it could, with long enough exposure, destroy the synapses in the brain. Voldemort believed that the personality and intellect were still in there, but simply had no way of connecting with the outside world, effectively trapping them inside their own mind.

Harry shivered at that thought and stepped outside. He walked to the only place on his property that wasn't covered by Anti-Apparation wards and disappeared.

With Hermione and Harry using their house as a regular Apparation point, the Grangers had added a small room to the back of their garage, just right for two to use at once. That muffled the sounds of Apparation and allowed them to come and go without being seen by the Muggle neighbours.

Harry walked into the garage proper and knocked at the door into the house. Harry had been told he didn't have to knock, but he refused to enter another's home without letting them know he was there first. Some of that was manners, but some of it was because he'd once walked into the Weasley twin's house without knocking.

Harry still couldn't think of that moment without blushing. That Fred and George lived together still, after marrying Angelina and Katie was not a surprise, but that Lee Jordan and his wife did was.

The scene involving the six of them had opened Harry eyes to the uses of certain food products in sex and scarred his mind for life.

Harry never again entered anyone's house without letting them know he was coming again.

Hermione opened the door and Harry followed her upstairs to what had been intended as a bedroom, but which Hermione had converted to a magical workshop. Harry had been in here just twice and he looked around again.

Hermione had gotten Dobby to expand the room, (for which she paid him,) and it was a rectangular room, ten meters long by fifteen meters long. The north wall was filled with bookshelves and potion supplies, broken only by the desk in the middle of the wall.

The east wall, one of the shorter ones, was a long table with four separate Potion making stations, with potions in various stages of completion.

The south wall had a large blackboard, where Hermione worked out the formulas for her current projects, and a dozen charts, showing different things. Jane and Joe, two medical school anatomy figures, stood there as well. The two had been magically charmed so that a word would show Hermione that specific structure of the body she wanted.

The last wall had a long workbench with a few Muggle tools and arcane tools for Runes and other physical projects Hermione was working on. Harry raised an eyebrow as he noted a dozen wands in various conditions laying on the table. Hermione was branching out it seemed, and he made a note to get her to show him some of her new projects.

The centre of the room had a large table and a pair of Apothecary shelf units. Harry grinned at them, remembering three hectic days running all over Diagon Alley and even Knockturn Alley trying to find all the things Hermione wanted for those shelves.

He shivered as he looked at the last thing in the middle of the room, as he did every time he saw it. Why Hermione had wanted a full size autopsy table was one question he'd never been able to ask her. Harry assumed that it had some practical use besides holding dead bodies, but if it didn't, he really didn't want to know.

Hermione crossed to her blackboard and looked at Harry. "This is a combination of a Muggle thing and a lot of magic and I don't know if it will work, because part of it depends on you."

Hermione launched into her idea and Harry just listened. He had to trust that Hermione knew what she was talking about regarding the Muggle bits as Harry rarely went into the Muggle world these days. The Dursleys had not left him with any great love of Muggle culture or ways and he was simply too busy to simply explore all the things he had missed out on.

Hermione was one of a very few that regularly went between the two worlds and it showed in her idea.

Harry waited until Hermione was done with her explanation and thought about what she wanted to do. He asked her a few questions and thought about it.

The first phase of the project required a Muggle thing called cloning. They would take a few cells from each of the Longbottoms and create new people from the cells. Normally, the people would be new people, with minds and experiences of their own, but that was where Hermione was bringing magic into it.

She wanted to stop using Muggle techniques to create the clones at about the third month of growth and age the bodies using magic and potions from that point. According to Hermione, doing so would create two bodies, identical to the Longbottoms, but without minds or the damage from the torture they had undergone.

Assuming the 'cloning' worked as Hermione thought it would, Harry didn't see any problems up until this point. Ageing Potions and Magic were well documented and reliable.

It was the last step that appalled Harry. They needed to transfer the personalities and spirits of the Longbottoms from the old bodies to the new ones, and that was Dark Magic, very Dark Magic.

Unless of course, you were Hermione, who had looked for and found another way of doing it, one that disturbed Harry greatly. He wasn't sure how Hermione had come up with this idea, but it was either the most brilliant thing he'd ever heard, or the most insane. No, he decided, it was both.

Hermione wanted to use a Dementor to suck the soul out of the old body, and then force the Dementor to release it before it was destroyed. At the same time, they would remove the old body with a Portkey and bring in the new one.

Her theory was that since it was the same body, the soul would enter it, and the Longbottoms would be intact, able to connect to the world again, as the new bodies would not have the damage of the old.

Harry spent the next hour reading her notes and asking questions. Hermione was brilliant, that was a given. She would never be a good teacher though, as she had a hard time phrasing things so that people who were not as smart as she was could understand it.

Harry was smart, but not anywhere near her level, and he made her go over the things he didn't understand several times, until he understood all of the processes she was going to use.

When he was satisfied he leaned on the table and stared into space as he thought about it. Except for the Dementor part, most of her plan was based on normal things.

Cloning was an accepted thing in the Muggle world, and there had been many uses of it already. Finding a specialist that would do what they wanted might be a problem, but Hermione seemed to think she could do it, though it would cost a great deal.

If nothing else, Harry thought, they could always Obliviate the doctor when they were done.

The ageing of the bodies was the easiest part, and he saw no problems there, although they would have to stop at about twenty to twenty five years, that being the limits of permanently ageing anything without causing it harm.

It was using a Dementor that was the biggest problem. Harry still remembered the one time he'd seen the Dementor's Kiss stopped in mid process, during his third year, and it was that very incident that Hermione had based this whole thing on.

There had been a second there, when Sirius' spirit had been out of his body but not yet destroyed, and then Harry's Patronus had interrupted the Dementor and the spirit had been released. Sirius had not seemed to take any lasting harm from it, and Hermione wanted to try and do the same thing again.

That part would require split second timing and at least four people. One to move the old body, one to move the new body, Harry to control the Dementor, and someone to monitor the entire process and make sure that everything went off perfectly.

Harry looked at Hermione's notes again, reading the conclusions at the end. She thought there were five possible endings to this.

One: It works, and the Longbottoms are the same as they were before they were tortured. They would need a lot of updating on things, and the changes of the last twenty years would be a shock, but that was the best situation.

Two: The connection between the old bodies and the spirit would be too strong and the spirit would be drawn back to them, leaving the Longbottoms as they were now.

Three: The spirit would not accept the new body, but not be able to return to the old body, in which case they would be dead.

Four: The Dementor would not release the spirit and the Longbottoms would be Kissed. This, according to Hermione was a low probability, if Harry did his part right.

Five: The spirits made the transfer, but transferring the spirit did not free the mind and memories. This could still be fixed, but it would mean months, possibly years of transferring every memory from the old body to the new one, one at a time, similar to the way you removed a memory for a Pensive.

Harry looked at the possibilities for a long time. Two of five had positive outcomes, and while that was better odds than anyone else could give Neville, they still were not good. Forty percent chances of getting them back, but half of that would mean waiting years to have them fully back.

"There is one other thing I can do to increase those chances," Hermione said, looking at Harry. "But it would require a trip to meet with Raul Yonkers, and I can't be certain he's entirely sane any more, or remembers the spell I need from him."

Harry frowned. Raul Yonkers was a name he'd heard somewhere, but he couldn't place it. Hermione saw his confusion and silently handed him a book, opening it to a bookmark inside.

Harry read the section and with the first sentence he remembered who Yonkers was. Or rather, who he had been.

No one was certain who he really was, or where he'd come from, but Raul Yonkers had been Grindelwald's best interrogator, with an emphasis on the terror. Hermione had highlighted one passage.

"_Raul Yonkers was possibly the smartest Wizard of Grindelwald's people, and created several new Dark spells, including one to trap a soul. Had it not been for his devotion to Grindelwald, he could have been the most dangerous Wizard of his time. He was captured after Albus Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald and sent to Azkaban."_

Harry frowned, thinking about that. "How do you know he's even still alive?"

"I don't, but he's never been reported dead, so there is a chance at least and if we can convince him to teach us the soul trapping spell, it would help immensely."

Harry sighed. "You do realize that we'll never be able to let anyone know how we did this, don't you?"

Hermione frowned. "Why not? It may have applications that can be used for other types of injuries."

Harry nodded. "It might, but it can also be used to become immortal. All you have to do is change your body out every hundred years or so, maybe less." He sighed, looking at something in the distance, a vision only he could see. "The problem is, that this would only be available to the very rich, and in order to keep doing it, they would have to stay rich. That means they would be pushing to insure they stay at the top of the social group." He looked at Hermione. "At the same time, there would be anger from all the people that couldn't afford to do this. That would lead to problems sooner or later."

Hermione was staring at Harry, blinking. "When did you become so aware of possibilities? I never even thought of using this for that purpose, or the problems it could cause."

Harry grinned wryly. "You've never had an immortality obsessed Dark Lord in your head, and the Wizengamot is teaching me about consequences."

He sighed. "This looks good, Hermione and it's just the kind of brilliance we all expect from you. Let me think about it for a day or two. We'll probably let Neville make the final decision, as it is his parents we'd be experimenting on, but simply telling him about this is going to take tact."

Hermione nodded, agreeing with that. "Whatever you think best, Harry."

Harry smiled. "What I think is that I'd like to take the newest member of the Wizengamot to dinner, and try and get her to vote a couple of laws my way. Are you ready to enter a darker world than anything Voldemort thought of?"

Hermione blinked. "Politics can't be that bad, Harry. Politicians don't kill people, or torture them."

Harry sighed. "No, they just snatch away their rights, freedoms and their ability to make an informed choice by presenting only the information they want you to know." He frowned. "I would rather have the open hate of a Dark Lord.. He, at least, didn't pretend to have your best interests at heart while he cursed you."

Hermione frowned. "And you want me to join this cesspool why?"

Harry looked at her. "Because if I can get enough people that truly care, I can break the hold the career politicians have on the Wizengamot, and make it something better than it is."

Hermione smiled at Harry's back as they went downstairs. "Still with the saving people thing, Harry?" she teased him gently.

Harry just shrugged. "You know how it is," he dead panned as they headed for the Apparation shed, "I have to have something to do between Dark Lords."

Harry and Hermione passed a long dinner while Harry filled Hermione in on the current laws being debated in the Wizengamot and the main personalities that ran the group. He told her about the factions and the deals they made with them, and the unspoken rules that governed the presiding body of Wizards for England, Ireland and Scotland.

He told her about the International Conference of Wizards, and how every nation had a single delegate in that body, except for whatever country the Head Wizard came from, who didn't have a delegate, as the Supreme Mugwump was the tiebreaker on any vote.

They barely noticed the hours passing, and neither of them noticed Colin taking his picture and leaving. Somewhere along the way, they stopped discussing politics and started talking about other things. Hermione's classes in University, where she was studying energy and energy fields. She confided in Harry that since magic obeyed laws, it should be possible to figure out the limits of it, as Muggles had determined the Law of Gravity and a dozen others.

She got Harry to talk about what he wanted, and Harry spoke about bringing the Wizards away from the rampant racism and Pureblood ideals. Hermione looked at him oddly. "Harry, I meant in your life."

Harry sighed, looking into the distance. Hermione knew who he was seeing, by the look of sadness that passed over his face. "I don't have any ideas in that area. First, I never had a family that loved me to show me what a normal life is like, so I don't miss it. Second, every time I look at a woman, I compare her to Ginny. She was smarter than I, judging by our respective OWLs, brave and loyal." He smiled sadly. "That she was beautiful and warm, with a sense of humour and the willingness to kick me in the ass when I was being stupid was merely a bonus."

He looked at Hermione. "I know, logically at least, that she has become something more than human in my memory, but I still compare every woman I meet to her, and what merely alive woman can compare to a memory?"

Hermione nodded slowly. She knew what Harry meant, she'd seen it in a dozen people that lost loved ones in the war, and she decided that she would not allow this. An errant thought in the back of her head made her smile. Perhaps Harry wasn't the only one with a saving people thing.

The evening passed quickly, with Harry and Hermione not noticing the people around them or that the restaurant closed. Regulus Fizzlenip knew what the Wizards owed these two, and he saw no reason to interrupt their dinner date. His wife Flooed in when he didn't get home on time and he shushed her, pointing to Harry and Hermione. She sighed, leaning against her husband. "Young love."

Regulus put his arms around her and nuzzled the back of her neck. "Yeah, and they don't even know it. I was listening to them earlier. They think this is a working dinner."

A burst of laughter from the two under discussion caused them to look at them again. Hermione was smiling and Harry had a lopsided grin that Sheila sighed over.

Harry was listening to Hermione talking about some of her research when Hermione suddenly yawned. He looked at his watch and blinked. "Hermione, it's two AM."

Hermione looked at her watch and groaned. "Mum and dad are going to kill me. I'm supposed to let them know if I'm going to be out this late."

The two of them fled, stopping only to pay for the meal. They Apparated to Hermione's house and Hermione opened the kitchen door quietly. She sighed and walked into the kitchen. Her parents were sitting at the table, looking at her.

Her father was frowning and her mother had no expression that Harry could see. Hermione could tell she was suppressing something, but not what.

"Mr. Potter, would you mind telling me why you're bringing my daughter home at two in the morning?"

Harry blushed. "I am sorry, Mr. Granger," he said earnestly. "I was giving Hermione a briefing on the Wizengamot and we lost track of time."

Mr Granger had listened to his wife when she talked about Harry and Hermione, and now that she had opened his eyes, he could see it. He almost smiled. Neither of them had a clue what they were feeling. This was going to be fun. "I see. I hope you were at least in a public place, and not in a room?"

Harry stared blankly for a second until the implications of that comment sunk in. He spoke without thinking as he turned dark red. "Of course, sir. I would never do anything like that with Hermione."

Hermione was about to say something to her father when Harry made his comment. She frowned at him asking him, "Why not?" Her voice had a distinct edge to it.

Harry missed that warning sign, still focused on her father. "You're my best friend, not a woman."

Hermione and her mother glared at Harry. Her father smiled. "Well then, Harry, I suggest you go home so we can all go to bed."

Harry was only too happy to escape so easily and left with a quick goodbye to Hermione.

Hermione was still glaring at the wall. Her parents exchanged amused glances as she fumed. Hermione took a deep breath. "Not a woman, hm? I think it's time that man has his eyes opened to a few things." She went upstairs and closed her door very firmly.

Mrs Granger looked at her husband. "That was a mean thing to do to Harry."

Mr. Granger smirked at her. "I know, but it's going to happen sooner or later according to you, and this way, we'll have some great stories to tell the grandchildren."

Upstairs, Hermione sat at her desk and used her wand to open a drawer she hadn't opened since she had broken up with Ron. She took the book in there out, ignoring the make up and other things for now. She looked at the book and got paper and a pen. She opened the book and began to read, stopping to make notes.

Hermione had never been one to talk about boys or gossip, but she'd shared a room with two of the biggest flirts in Hogwarts for six years, and she'd learned a lot just by overhearing Lavender and her friends talk.

"_How to Catch and Keep the Wizard of Your Dreams"_ by Miranda Fisher was the best book on men around, according to Lavender, which is why Hermione had bought it after starting to date Ron.

This was the first time she'd ever sat down to study it though. _"Not a woman indeed,"_ Hermione thought. _"Harry Potter, you're going to pay for that comment." _

_**OoOoOoO Author's Notes. OoOoOoO**_

_Harry, Harry, Harry. You've stuck your foot in your mouth this time. I know you all want to get to the story, but like I said, this is just the first part of an ongoing thing, all set in the same AU. Think of it as a serial on TV. All the shows are about the same people, but the storyline changes. I'm going to do that with this story as well._

_Next chapter: Hermione's first steps into flirtation, Neville and his decision, and more Politics._

_Raven_


	3. Decisions

_Right. I have not forgotten this story, but I have too many stories being juggled at once. I'm going to have to put one or two of them on Hiatus, so I can concentrate on making the ones I keep working on right. PoE, SoG and one other I will continue, depending on which one you want me to continue. MM&WS, BoB, 101 ways, HP&SP or SoM is going to have to go on Hiatus. Let me know which one you would prefer to keep going right now._

_**Muggle Magic & Wizard Science**_

_**Chapter Three**_

_**Decisions**_

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Hermione and the Longbottoms, Longbottom Estate. OoOoOoO**_

Harry appeared at the Apparation point for the Longbottom Estate with Hermione and started toward the house. He stopped after a few steps and looked back. "Are you coming with me?"

Hermione sighed. "I have to," she said without conviction. "I know what we have to do, and how it can be done. I need to be there so I can answer Neville's questions." She continued to stand still though, and Harry came back to face her.

Harry raised her chin so she was looking him in the face. "Big rewards require big risks. In Neville's place, would you take this chance?" Harry waited for Hermione's answer.

"Of course I would, Harry, but I understand the technology behind the cloning and the magic side of it. Neville doesn't understand the cloning, and I doubt he knows much about Dementors."

"Who does?" asked Harry wryly, only to blink as Hermione tried to look away. "Hermione?" he said, making the word a question.

Hermione blushed and tried to pull away, only to find Harry was a bit stronger than he looked and not willing to let go. "Do you remember that hideout we raided, the one where we caught the Lestranges?"

Harry blinked at the odd question but nodded. Hermione sighed. "While we were waiting for the Aurors, I was searching for anything to help us, remember?" She looked away again. "I found a couple of books that had fallen under a dresser."

Harry stiffened. "You never told us about them."

Hermione nodded. "I know, but they were not important to what we were doing and the information in them was very interesting." She looked at Harry and sighed. "They were scribbles, mostly, Voldemort's notes on various things. One of those things was Dementors. I think he studied them more than anyone else ever has, trying to find a way to recreate their effect, without having to have a Dementor around."

Harry shivered as he thought about what Voldemort would have done with that information.

He pushed that away to look at Hermione. "Relax, Hermione. If you say there was nothing in those books that would have helped us, I believe you. You might want to keep your possession and study of those books quiet though. I don't think many people would be happy to know that anything he wrote is still out there."

Hermione nodded. "I know that. If it hadn't been for this project, I wouldn't have told anyone."

Harry frowned at her. "I hope you know you can tell me anything."

Hermione looked at Harry and smiled. "I know that, Harry."

"Are you two going to stand there all night, or are you going to come in for dinner?" They both turned. Neville was standing on the lawn, looking at them. Harry took Hermione's hand. "Come on. You have to come with me. I can't answer half of the questions he's going to have."

They walked up the gentle slope and Neville watched them approach. He frowned thoughtfully. Something was up. Harry had that look to him again.

It wasn't a glare, or anything like that, but after years of watching the Trio getting into trouble, and then joining them in some of that trouble, Neville knew when Harry was doing something he considered a bit dodgy. There was an air of tension around him and he seemed to coil up, as if he'd spring on anything that wasn't right in his mind.

He greeted them casually, certain that they would tell him about it sooner or later. He noted a large lump in Hermione's robes, just where she used to carry her notes on whatever she was working on at the moment and frowned thoughtfully again. Whatever this was, Hermione was going to be behind it. Neville was very happy with Luna, and he was the only person besides Luna that knew he'd once liked Hermione, in a small crush type way.

He'd never acted on those feelings, because it was obvious to anyone with half a brain that Hermione was going to end up with Ron or Harry, or possibly both, depending on the boys. He noted the hold Harry had on her hand and smiled to himself.

He led the way inside, although Harry at least, had no need of a guide. Since the two of them were part of the clique of Wizengamot members that wanted to make a few changes, Harry had been over here to talk strategy a hundred times.

Neville frowned as he thought about that. "Harry. The Fogeys are making another push at the Race bill."

Harry smirked. "Let them. I want them tied up in defeating that bill."

Neville frowned at Harry. "You introduced a bill that would give all races parity with humans, even had a press conference to announce it, and you want it beaten? Would you mind explaining that?"

Harry grinned as they entered the study. He went to the love seat he normally sprawled on while they planned their next move in the Wizengamot. "I know that we don't have the votes to pass that bill. Hell, half of our allies would vote against that one. Did you happen to notice that Arthur Weasley introduced a bill the same day?"

Neville frowned, thinking back. "Something about the Muggle Protection Act, wasn't it? The Bill modifies it somehow, doesn't it?"

Harry nodded. "Basically, it will amend the Act to include the use of spells on Muggles. It would make it a crime to use a spell on a Muggle unless you were an official of the Ministry."

Neville frowned. "I don't understand."

Hermione had been filled in by Harry during their dinner. "Think about it, Neville. How many Wizards and Witches get by in casual contact with Muggles by using spells? This law will make them by more cautious about their interactions. If they want to drive, they'll have to get actual permits. If they have to be in the Muggle world, they'll have to get ID cards instead of just spelling one up."

Neville looked blank for a minute and then his eyes cleared. "Making Wizards learn at least a bit about Muggles."

Harry nodded. "Exactly. And as they learn about them, maybe we can get a few Muggle things in the Wizard world. Cellular phones are far better than owls for quick notes and communication."

Neville nodded. "And by focussing the Fogeys attention on the other bill, you hope to slip this one through with a minimum of hassles."

Hermione looked at Neville. "Harry didn't mention 'Fogeys' when he briefed me on the Wizengamot. Who are they?"

Neville smiled. "Is that what that was? A Wizengamot briefing?"

Harry and Hermione blinked. "What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

Neville went to his desk. "I take it that the two of you have not seen the Daily Prophet today."

He tossed Harry the paper and Harry opened it.

The top half of the front page was a picture of Harry and Hermione in the restaurant. Harry was smiling at Hermione and Hermione was looking at Harry with a smile. Every so often, Harry's hand would reach out and touch Hermione's hand as they both laughed.

The rest of the page was a short blurb in large print.

_Harry Potter and Hermione Granger seem very close as they dined at Nostradamus, leading this reporter to wonder how close the pair are. It was learned that they did not leave the restaurant until two in the morning, and according to sources, neither of them was seen until well after noon the next day._

_Some people may recall that this reporter told everyone about the feelings they shared during the Tri-Wizard Tournament some years ago, and Miss Granger's fickleness then. One wonders how long she will play with Mr. Potter this time, before dropping him for another. Given the number of times they have appeared at Ministry and social functions together without showing this level of closeness, one might also wonder how the effect was achieved. Of course, one does remember that Miss Granger was capable of making a Polyjuice potion in her second year, and received an O on both her OWLs and NEWTs in Potions._

_Perhaps Mr. Potter should watch what he eats._

Harry snarled and threw the paper at the fire. Hermione had been watching his face and was expecting something like that. Her wand came out and she caught the paper with a Summoning charm. Harry didn't even notice as he stood up and began pacing, muttering something under his breath that Hermione didn't need to hear.

Hermione read the article and frowned. "Rita Skeeter." She looked at the article again. "Is she really implying that I used some sort of Love Potion on Harry? Is she stupid, or just ignorant?"

Neville snickered. "Don't ask Harry to answer that. She was smart enough to read your book, but apparently, she missed the bit where Harry can throw off mental compulsions."

"She didn't miss it. It doesn't make for a slanderous story if we're just friends enjoying a dinner together, so she ignored it." Harry's voice was low and very cold. Hermione swung around. She'd heard that voice before, and it always meant Harry was about to do things to people. "I think the time has come to teach our Ms. Skeeter about the foibles of the public."

Hermione frowned. "Harry, we have more important things to think about than the vile rambling of a mental defective."

Harry looked at Hermione and bit his lip. He looked at Neville and nodded. Visibly pushing his anger away he agreed with Hermione. "Neville, would you get Luna, please? I think you'll both be needed for this. It will affect both of you."

Neville nodded and pulled his wand. He sent a whisper spell out the door and a few minutes later, Luna came in. Dressed in the sky blue and pink robes she favoured, she was a sight to see. "You wanted me, love?"

Harry sighed. "Actually, I wanted you here. We have a rather startling thing to tell you, and we thought you might like to hear it."

Hermione sat back down in the chair and Harry paced for a minute longer. "Out with it, Harry. I know you've got something big going on, and I would prefer to know what it is."

Harry looked at Neville with uncharacteristic grimness. "You might not want to be so eager, Neville. It's about your parents."

Luna took Neville's hand as he paled. "What about them? They haven't changed, and I was there just yesterday."

Harry sighed. "I know, but we may be able to change that."

Neville stared at Harry for a second, absorbing what he'd just said. He paled even more, closing his eyes. Harry waited until he opened them again. "Hermione was the one that found this bit, and unlike the MediWizards, she's not limited to Wizard ways or Magic."

Neville blinked and then his face shone with hope. "Muggles have something they can do for them?" he exclaimed.

Harry shook his head. "Not exactly. They will start the process but magic will continue it and end it."

Neville sighed. He looked at Hermione. "Why don't you explain what you mean, and I'll ask questions later." He sat forward, watching Harry.

Harry took a deep breath. "It all started during the awards dinner."

Harry led them though Hermione's thinking and her plan, explaining everything just as she explained it to him. He went slower than Hermione would, falling unconsciously into the lecture mode he had used during the DA sessions and laid it all out for the Longbottoms.

When he was finished, he sat down and watched Neville. Neville was chewing on his lip while he thought about what he'd heard. Luna was looking at the ceiling and Harry wasn't even certain she'd heard what he was saying.

Neville looked at Hermione. "This cloning thing. What can you tell me about it?"

Hermione frowned and handed Neville the magazine she'd found the article in. She had marked the page and began talking as he looked at it. "Cloning is the process of taking a cell, or a group of cells and creating a genetically exact copy of the original body. Normally, if you allow the clone to grow properly, it will become a person in its own right. What I plan to do is stop that development and age it magically, until we have two perfect copies of your parents without any mental personality or thoughts of their own."

Neville looked at the magazine and put it down. "I'll take your word for the Muggle part of this, although it sounds more like magic than anything I learned at Hogwarts. What about the rest of it? Do you really think you can control the Dementor that well?"

"I can't, but we've all seen Harry's Patronus stop multiple Dementors, and he's already done this once, without the controlled scenario advantages we'll have this time."

Neville sat back and thought. "This is a lot to take in. Let me think about it for a couple of days." He looked at Hermione. "I assume you have a set of notes I can keep and look over?"

Hermione nodded, pulling the bulge out of her robes that Neville had seen before. She handed it to him and he set in on his desk. He stood up. "For now, I believe dinner should be ready."

Dinner was quiet as Neville thought about Hermione's plan. It was insane. It was foolhardy and mostly, it was an act of desperation. One chance in five that he would have his parents back soon. One chance in five that he would get them back, but it would be a long time down the road. One chance in five that they would remain the same. One chance in five that they would die. One chance in five that they would be destroyed by the Dementor's Kiss.

One chance in five. That thought kept running through his head. One chance in five. Neville was a pragmatic young man, and that did not, on the surface, sound like the sort of odds he should be betting his parents on.

He said good night to Hermione and Harry distractedly and went back into the study. He took Hermione's notes out and started studying them as closely as he had ever studied anything in school.

Neville was just finishing the notes, and had a couple of pages of notes and questions of his own when the sun came up. He sat back and watched the sky without actually seeing the sunrise.

He would have said no last night but for one thing; Harry trusted Hermione, and Harry thought they could do this. Harry had been doing the impossible since he was a first year, and he was not that scrawny little boy any more.

Luna entered the study and sat in his lap without saying anything. They sat there for a while and then Luna laid her head back on his chest. "Do you remember the Battle of Hogwarts?"

Neville blinked. "Of course. It's not the sort of thing one forgets after all."

Luna snuggled a little closer. "It was so nice to have it all over with, wasn't it? The sense of completion, that it was done."

Neville sighed, remembering what he'd done, and his eyes flickered toward the hidden space where a very private souvenir sat. "Yes, it was."

Luna turned her face up and kissed him gently before getting up and walking toward the door. "Knowing that you have done what needs to be done, no matter how it turns out is a good thing. I haven't caught a Crumple-Horned Snorkack yet, but I know I have done everything I can."

Neville sat and stared at the wall. It would be nice to have something besides this unending limbo his parents were in now. He sat forward and began making a new list. First, he'd have to talk to the MediWizards at St. Mungo's.

_**OoOoOoO Hermione, Diagon Alley. OoOoOoO**_

Hermione took a deep breath and stepped into the last store in Diagon Alley she would have ever thought of entering.

"Hello and welcome to Fashions and Fads." Lavender Brown blinked. "Hermione? Is that you?"

"Hello, Lavender." Hermione said, while wondering who else it could be.

Lavender looked at Hermione, and suddenly smiled. "You've got man trouble."

Hermione blinked. "Not exactly, but I do need a few things, and since Harry said you did the robes for the awards dinner, I thought I'd come here."

Lavender smiled. "Come in back, and have a cup of tea, while we discuss what you want." She led Hermione to a small cosy room with four chairs and a table. "Padma, we have a special guest."

A few minutes later, Padma Patil came in, carrying a tray. "Hermione, how are you? Congratulations on your Order of Merlin."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Padma. That award is what brings me here."

The three of them sat down and Padma poured tea for them all before replying. "Let me guess," she said thoughtfully, "you want some clothes for your appearances in the Wizengamot."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. Half of the Wizengamot is appearance and image, and as the youngest Witch there, I cannot be less than perfect."

Lavender sighed. "Pity you're not a redhead. There are some new styles that would be perfect, but your colouring would just clash."

With that, Lavender and Padma launched into a conversation about styles, colours and fabrics that made Hermione wonder if they were speaking a foreign tongue. "Excuse me," she said finally, "what are you talking about?"

The other two blushed. "Sorry, Hermione," Lavender said, "we forgot that you're not up on the latest things."

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not the type to worry about it. I was always more about serious learning."

Padma grinned. "And a good thing too. We could not have done half of the things you did for Harry."

Hermione blushed. "I didn't do that much."

Lavender choked on her tea. When she recovered, she stared at Hermione. "What are you talking about? I read your book on what the three of you did, and even between the lines, anyone that knows the three of you knows that it was you that figured out how to destroy a Horcrux without damage to yourself."

Padma held up her hand. "That aside, right now, Hermione needs some decent clothes." She frowned at Hermione. "I will ask you to do one thing for us. Once you start wearing our designs, please don't be seen in public in that stuff you normally wear. Someone might think we made it, and we do have a reputation to maintain."

Hermione frowned at her. "Let's see what this is going to cost before I make any promises. Unlike Harry, I'm not super rich."

Lavender and Padma shook their heads in unison. "Hermione, you're one of the three who stopped You-Know-Who, a holder of an Order of Merlin first class and the youngest Witch in the Wizengamot. The advertising we'll get just by you wearing our designs will offset any cost we have, so we're not planning on charging you much, mostly just the cost of the fabric."

Padma smiled. "So unless you want something exotic, this is going to cost you less than Harry's stuff. He refuses to be seen very often, and won't discuss anything about himself, so we don't get much word of mouth from him." She smiled again. "Although that front page picture of the two of you at the dinner, and then on your date was nice."

Hermione blushed. "It was not a date. Harry was merely briefing me on the Wizengamot." She frowned, remembering what Harry had said later that night. She looked at the two girls. "In fact, according to Harry, I'm not a woman, just Hermione."

Lavender stared at her. "He said that?" She read the answer in Hermione's frown and shook her head. "I knew Ron was blind, but I thought better of Harry." She stood up. "Right. Let's make you a couple of things that will open his eyes, shall we?"

Hermione held up her hand. "Please remember my dignity, will you?"

Padma grinned. "Of course we will. We pride ourselves on making the best clothes for each person."

Lavender smirked. "Except when it comes to your under things. If Harry is seeing them, your dignity should be the last thing on either of your minds."

Hermione sighed as she followed the two down the hall. "What have I gotten myself into?"

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Auror Headquarters. OoOoOoO**_

Harry sat in front of Auror Mike Bradley, a Muggleborn Wizard from Ireland. "I need to know if a specific prisoner is still alive in Azkaban."

Auror Bradley looked at him. "Aye? And who would you be wanting to know about?"

"Raul Yonkers," Harry said.

Auror Bradley frowned. "That name rings a bell, but I canna place it." He turned to a book and wrote something in it. He read whatever response he got and raised his eyebrow and the response. "Would you mind telling me what you're needing that devil for?"

Harry sighed. "I cannot, not yet. I just want to know if he's still there and able to communicate."

Auror Bradley nodded slowly. "Aye, he is. The Dementors haven't gone near him in years. Some of the people that have spoken to him think it's because the black hearted scoundrel has no feelings to feed on."

Harry frowned and got up. "That's all I need to know for now. Thank you for your time, Mr. Bradley."

"Mr. Potter, should I be expecting a request to meet the man some time soon?"

Harry paused at the door. "I don't know yet. There is a possibility that something he knows will allow me to help someone, but I would honestly prefer not to learn what he knows." Harry sighed. "But then, there have been a lot of things I would have preferred not to know."

Auror Bradley nodded. "Aye, I know that feeling."

_**OoOoOoO Neville Longbottom, St. Mungo's Long Term Care Wing. OoOoOoO**_

Neville was watching his parents as he talked to the Healer in charge of their care. "So, short of a miracle of some sort, or some sort of revolutionary break though, they will not change."

Healer Tanya Robears nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Longbottom, but after this long, if they have not changed, they won't, without some new stimulus coming from outside. The physical damage to the nervous system must simply be too great for repair."

Neville frowned. "I thought you couldn't repair the nervous system."

"We can't," she agreed, "but the body is a wonderful thing. There are many reported cases of people that have had severe damage getting most of their functions back." She looked around and lowered her voice. "You didn't hear this from me. Muggles have a way to see the brain, and according to their healers, the brain can make new connections to avoid the damaged areas, if the damage is not too great, and the nervous system can do the same."

Neville blinked as he regarded the Healer. "Why wouldn't I have heard that from you?"

Tanya looked around again. "Because this is St Mungo's," she said in a tone of bitter sarcasm, "and they are simple Muggles. They couldn't possibly have anything better than we have." She looked at Neville. "The hospital is run by a committee, and they are all old money names."

Neville sighed. "I see. I think I may have to do some private research."

Tanya nodded. "If you should happen to do any of it in the Muggle world, the words you should look up are Neurology, pathological conditions and sensory deprivation."

Neville looked at her again. Tanya Robears was a short Witch, with brown hair and the most unusual eyes Neville had ever seen in a human. They were clearly a shade of purple. Not dark blue, or anything like that, but purple. "How do you know so much about Muggles?"

Neville was expecting her to be Muggleborn, or to have a close relative that was, but she surprised him. "I swore an Oath, Mr. Longbottom. I swore to help my patients to the best of my ability, and that does not mean ignoring possibilities because of some Pureblood notion of superiority. I have already started using a few physical therapy routines on the patients."

Neville nodded. "Ms. Robears, if anyone attempts to remove you from my parents' care, I want you to owl me immediately. I may have a few words to say, and a big wand or two in my closet."

Tanya blinked as she looked at Neville. "You've been coming in here every week, at least once a week for the fifteen months I've been here, and you've never looked like this, or asked these questions before," she said thoughtfully. "Has something changed?"

Neville looked at her. He smiled slightly. "Not yet, but there are miracles, and then there are miracles. Thank Merlin I have a couple of miracle workers for friends."

Tanya went about her routines with a thoughtful frown. Something was going to happen soon. She could feel it. She resolved to keep an eye on the Longbottoms. Mr. Longbottom was only worried about his family, but she had an entire ward of people, and if whatever he was planning would help them, she wanted to know about it.

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Hermione and Ron, The Wizengamot. OoOoOoO**_

Harry stood in the Wizengamot's room. By long custom, a seated holder of the Order of Merlin first class introduced any new members with the same distinction.

"Wizards and Witches of the Wizengamot, it is my duty to introduce the newest members of the Wizengamot." Harry barely managed to keep a grin off of his face as he watched a few of the Pureblood bigots snarl under their breath. Two new members, and already allied with Potter and his faction was not what they wanted. "It is my duty, but also my pleasure. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were instrumental in helping me rid us of Lord Voldemort, and this is no less than they earned."

Harry turned toward the member's door and waved his hand, listening to the mutters with a glint in his eyes. It had taken him a very long time to be able to do even that little bit of wandless magic, but it was worth it, since not one Wizard in a thousand could do that much. He smiled openly as the doors opened, looking at Ron and.

Harry's brain stopped for a minute. Hermione was wearing clothes, quite appropriate for the Wizengamot, but while they were covering her, they clung and swirled in a way that left no doubt that Hermione was a Witch, not a Wizard. Harry shook it off after a second. He had a ritual to finish.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, come forward."

Ron stepped into the chamber and stopped about three metres in front of Harry. "Mr. Weasley, you have been given a great honour, and a greater responsibility. Are you prepared to shoulder the care of your people?"

Harry knew what Ron was going to do, and he was looking forward to it. "Wizard Potter," Ron said, "I am willing to do so, however prior commitments prevent me from assuming my seat at this time. I beg the indulgence of the Wizengamot, and ask that Harry James Potter hold my vote until such time as I am free to assume the responsibilities of this August body."

Harry nodded. It was rare, but holding another's vote was allowable by the rules. "I will hold your Vote, Mr. Weasley, and hope that your duties will allow you to take it back soon." Harry grinned at the flash of panic in Ron's eyes at that.

_**OoOoOoO Flashback, the day after the awards dinner. OoOoOoO**_

Harry had gotten Hermione and Ron together for the required historical pictures of the three Orders of Merlin. After the ordeal was over, Harry had taken them to a local restaurant for lunch. "So Ron, when are you planning on taking your seat? I have to introduce you, so I'd like to know in advance."

Ron had stared at Harry in confusion. "I am sitting down, and who are you introducing me to?"

Hermione had choked on her tea, her eyes dancing with humour and Harry grinned. "Ron, how did I end up in the Wizengamot?"

"You have an Order." Ron's words cut off as his eyes went from the medal on Harry's chest, to Hermione's and finally to the one on his own chest. "Oh bugger."

Harry and Hermione grinned at him. "So, when are you taking your seat?"

Ron sat up. "I can't do that, I have practice and games, and practice and travel." He glared at his smiling friends. "Laugh it up, you two. I happen to want to keep my position and that is a lot of work." He smiled. "We have a shot at the League Cup."

Harry rolled his eyes. The Chudley Cannons had a decent Keeper, true, but their Chasers were only so-so and their Seeker had caught just three Snitches in the last season. They did have good Beaters, though.

That still wouldn't give them a shot at the League Cup, not unless something changed.

Ron was looking at Hermione. "You knew about this, didn't you? That means you've studied the rules. Get me out of this, please, Hermione?" Harry had sudden memories of Ron trying to borrow essays and homework from Hermione during school and he sat back to watch.

Hermione managed to look shocked and disapproving at the same time. "Ronald Weasley, how can you skive off something this important?"

Ron shuddered visibly. "Give up Quidditch to sit around and talk all day? I'd go nutters in a week." He looked at Harry. "Other than Harry and my father, I don't even know who's on the Wizengamot, or what we actually do or anything."

Hermione smiled at him. "That's OK, Ron. I have pages and pages of notes I'll let you borrow."

Ron looked at her with something close to panic in his eyes. "But Hermione," he nearly whined.

They were interrupted then. "Look, it's Keeper Weasley!" Their table was suddenly surrounded by a group of younger kids, most of them wearing robes proclaiming their allegiance to one Quidditch team or another. "Mr. Weasley, can I have your autograph?"

The speaker was a slightly built boy wearing a Chudley Cannons shirt under his robes. Ron smiled at him. "Of course. Who am I making it to?"

Harry and Hermione watched as Ron signed a dozen autographs and talked Quidditch with the kids. They looked at each other. "He'd never be happy in the Wizengamot," Harry murmured.

"I know, but I was going to have such fun teasing him." Hermione watched Harry. "Do you think they'll ever notice us?"

Harry winced. "I hope not," he said.

Ron was talking to the boy with the Cannons shirt on. "So what position do you want to play?"

"I want to be a Seeker. If not that, then a Chaser. I don't have the right body for Beater or Keeper."

Ron nodded and smiled at him. "I just happen to know a man that never failed to catch the Snitch unless something prevented him from finishing the game. Maybe you could get a few tips from him."

The boy smiled. "Really?" He frowned then, thinking hard. "I can't remember anyone with that good a record. Who is it?"

Ron grinned. "Well, he was never able to play professionally, but he was the youngest Seeker for Gryffindor in a century when he played at Hogwarts."

The boy's eyes widened and he turned to the others. "Did you hear? Mr. Weasley might be able to get me a chance to talk to Harry Potter about being a Seeker."

Ron was smirking at Harry's frown. "I think it might be fairly easy. I can almost certainly say that Harry is closer than you think."

The boy stopped looking at Ron and looked at the other adults sitting with him. "Oh, Merlin." His wide-eyed surprise at who Mr. Weasley was sitting with was enough to make Harry smile. "I'm sorry, but I didn't even see you and."

Harry held his hand up, cutting the frantic flow of words off. "It's not important. Not like Quidditch is. Tell me, how are your reflexes?"

Harry drew the boy out, using the skills he'd learned teaching people in the DA. He talked about the skills you needed to be a good Seeker and what was more important. "Mind set. That is the single most important thing. When you go out there, you have to be positive that you are going to get the Snitch, if you do your job right."

Hermione sat back and watched Harry. It was a pity he wasn't teaching flying. He had a knack for it, and a good rapport with kids of all ages. She was musing on that when a tug on her sleeve made her look around. A young boy, maybe nine or so stood there. "Miss Granger, may I have your autograph?"

Hermione blinked. She'd gotten some fan mail after the Battle of Hogwarts, (and some offers she never told anyone about, that appalled her.) but this was her first autograph. She wrote her name out for the boy, finding out that his name was Hamlet Dane. She looked at him. He shrugged. "My parents are rabid collectors of his work." He rolled his eyes. "At least I got off better than my brother and sister. His name is Oberon and hers is Titania."

Hermione smiled. "King and Queen of the Fairies. I can see where those might not be the best names in the Wizard world"

The boy looked at her seriously. "I'm going to Hogwarts next year. Is Hogwarts really that dangerous? I read your book."

Hermione sighed. "It's only that bad if you have a Dark Lord trying to kill you every year. Do you?"

The boy grinned. "No, although sometime I wonder about my brother."

Hermione grinned back. "I never had that problem. I'm an only child." She sobered. "The only reoccurring problem you may run into is the Gryffindor Slytherin rivalry."

Hamlet shook his head. "I'll be in Ravenclaw," he predicted. Hermione raised her eyebrow. "I'm not very brave, my loyalty is reserved for people who earn it and I have very small ambitions, mostly to have a whole year away from Oberon." He smiled shyly. "I have gotten three special recognitions for Scholastics, though."

Hermione smiled. "That's very good," she praised. "But be aware that the Sorting may not go as you think. The Ceremony may find something in you that you didn't even know you had."

He shrugged, smiling impishly. "I doubt the Sorting Hat will find anything I didn't know about already."

Hermione grinned. "No, not if you're smart enough to find out how you get sorted already."

Harry was in a bind on the other side of the table. The young Quidditch fans had teamed up with Ron and gotten a promise out of Harry to spend a Saturday with the Cannons, showing the boy what a Seeker did.

The children finally left and Harry glared at Ron. "You're going to pay for that."

Ron smiled. "I don't think so. I haven't said anything, because I know how you feel about publicity, but the management has been after me to invite you to the Charity Team Meet this year." Ron smirked. "And since it just happens to be on a Saturday."

Harry glared harder. Ron sobered. "It's for a good cause this year, Harry. The proceeds are going to help the victims of the Voldemort War."

Harry sighed, defeated. Too many of the people who had been attacked were still without parents or able to make a living, and more were homeless, after the scorched earth policy Voldemort had used at the end, burning down entire Wizard communities. "I'll be there." He glared at Ron. "But you're still going to pay for this."

_**OoOoOoO End Flashback, Harry, Hermione and Ron, The Wizengamot. OoOoOoO**_

Harry watched Ron take the seat that was his now and turned back to the door. "Hermione Jane Granger, come forward."

"Miss Granger, you have been given a great honour, and a greater responsibility. Are you prepared to shoulder the care of your people?"

"I am." Hermione looked calm, but there was a whole butterfly convention going on in her stomach.

It only got worse when an older Wizard stood up. "I protest this member."

The Wizengamot buzzed with low conversations. Protesting a member meant that you thought they were unfit to sit in the Wizengamot. If it was proven, that person was barred from ever sitting in the Wizengamot.

Harry turned cold eyes on the Wizard that had spoken. "By what token will you prove her unfit to sit among us?" If looks could kill, Harry's gaze would have skewered the Wizard.

"She is too young, being a Muggleborn, to know the customs and laws of this exalted body. Without that knowledge, she is easily led by those who have evil intentions." The Wizard sat down.

Harry stared at him for a minute. "We shall test the member, as the law requires. I must recluse myself from this test, as I am a biassed judge." He frowned, searching his memory. "I believe that in this case, Ron Weasley would be the next judge."

Ron blinked and shook his head quickly. "I am as biassed as Harry. I pass on this."

Harry was expecting that and smiled. "As there are no other living holders of the Order of Merlin first class, there is only one option left. The challenger and the member challenged will both be asked questions out of the current by-laws handbook. The first one to fail to answer their question within a reasonable amount of time will be the loser of this challenge."

Hermione walked to her seat. "I am ready to answer the challenge." She looked at the challenger. "In fact, I believe I can end this right now. Since the by-laws do not disallow me asking my challenger a question, I wish to ask the first question."

The Wizengamot buzzed as dozens of Wizards and Witches checked Hermione's statement. Wizard Markus Inkee stood up. "As the oldest holder of an Order of Merlin second class, I will judge this contest. I find Miss Granger is correct. She may ask the first question."

The Wizengamot buzzed again. The old Wizard stood. "My esteemed colleague is correct, and I should know. I wrote the book we are using. Miss Granger, your question."

Hermione nodded. "Since you wrote the book, you know what chapter seven, paragraph two, by-law thirteen-sixty four is. I challenge you to answer it."

The old Wizard frowned for a second, thinking. "Ah. Every member must be aware of the other members of the Wizengamot. To facilitate this, every member must know the names and parents of every other member."

Hermione smiled. "Correct. I wish to hear you state them all."

The Wizard frowned. "That will take some time. Must you ask such a long question?"

Hermione smirked. "Allow me to make it shorter. Sir, name my lineage. I am a member of this body, unless I fail this challenge, which means you have to know my lineage as well as anyone else's."

The Wizard blinked. "But you have no lineage, you're a Muggleborn."

"Sir, that is of no importance here. I have parents, and by your own laws, you must know their names." Hermione waited.

The Wizard sighed. "I cannot name them. I cannot answer this question."

Harry stood up, smirking. He knew Hermione's study habits as well as anyone. "Miss Granger, I must wonder if you can answer that question."

Hermione cocked her head. "Would you like the list in Lineage age, alphabetical order, time in the Wizengamot, age of the person, or number of Wizengamot votes cast?"

Markus Inkee blinked. "I think we will stipulate that Miss Granger can answer the question, if Mr. Potter will allow it. As was previously stated, the list is quite long, no matter what order you put it in."

Harry sat down. "I am satisfied."

"Then let us get down to business. Mr Grunion, would you take your place?"

Harry grinned as the familiar procedures started. He'd listened to Hermione fussing over the rules of the Wizengamot ever since she found out she was going to have a seat, and he'd known that she knew all of the members, and as much about them as she could find in public records.

He looked at her again and was struck by her again. Hermione didn't have the classic beauty of a Cho Chang, or the arresting beauty of a model, but there was a quiet strength and character that blossomed into beauty, when she smiled at you.

Harry shook his head. What was he doing, thinking about what Hermione looked like? Was he going nutters or what? He pushed her out of his head and concentrated on the meeting. It worked, mostly.

_**OoOoOoO The Cannon's Charity Day. OoOoOoO**_

Harry soared above the crowd, smiling broadly. He rarely got the chance to fly for fun these days, and he was making the most of it. He soared to three hundred metres and let the broom drop.

He fell, spinning and watching the earth rush closer. A scant one hundred metres from the ground, when the crowd was beginning to make itself heard over the rush of air, Harry pointed his broom back into the air and started flying again.

For one split second, he thought he'd waited too long. The broom was trying to go up, but gravity had a grip on it, and Harry was barely two metres off the ground when the Firebolt broke gravity's hold and started back up into the air.

He took a deep breath as he got some air under him. He'd wait a bit before trying that stunt again. Like possibly forever.

A whistle broke his concentration and he came back down. As he got closer, he heard the Cannon's announcer speaking. "Ladies and Gentlemen, today we are graced by three of the best Seekers to play the game! From the Bulgarian National team, Victor Krum!"

The crowd roared their approval as Victor flew out, speeding around the edge of the stands, letting everyone get a good look at him. He waved at them, smiling and obviously enjoying himself.

"From the Holyfield Harpies, Alexandria Star!" Another roar, as the best female Seeker in fifty years broke from the ground, arrowing straight up and spinning like a dervish until she was level with Victor Krum. She paused, holding her Broomstick perfectly still and posed like that for the fans.

"And our special guest, who has never played professionally, but has never failed to catch a Snitch, if he finished the game, Representing all the victims of the Voldemort war, Harry Potter!"

Harry was still above the other two, and he fell again, watching and braking hard so he stopped even with the other two. He nodded to Victor and glanced at Miss Star. She was a dark-haired woman with brown eyes and a challenging glint to her eye.

"I am informed that we have another Seeker as well. Charlie Weasley led the Gryffindor Lions to a seven year winning streak, and he is here to watch over the dragons in the viewing area. Let's see if we can get him out here."

_**OoOoOoO Neville and Luna, The Longbottom Estate. OoOoOoO**_

"I'm going to let Hermione and Harry try, love."

Neville was sitting and brooding, staring at the fire. Luna sat on his lap and kissed him. "You shouldn't brood. You just aren't as good at it as Harry is. Leave the brooding to the professionals." She nibbled on his neck. "I, on the other hand, am having an urge."

Neville blinked, his attention captured by that statement. "Oh?"

Luna nodded. "I want to swim in the pool and make love on the edge."

Neville smiled. Luna loved the small stream and the deep pool in it at the back of the Estate. "I think we should follow your urge."

Luna stood up. "I'll go and get the towels." She stopped in the doorway and looked back. "Neville, please bring some Gillyweed. I may not wait until we're done swimming."

Neville blinked as he stared at the door his wife had just gone though. Just when he thought he'd heard everything, she came up with something new. He hurried out to the greenhouse.

_**OoOoOoO The Charity Seeker Match. OoOoOoO**_

It took a few minutes, but Charlie was soon flying with the rest of them. "Hey Charlie!" Harry called. "How have you been?"

"Decent, but I'm going to kill Ron for this. He had to have ratted me out."

Before Harry could reply, the announcer was back. "Folks, I have a surprising announcement. Fred and George Weasley, of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, have offered to bet anyone one thousand Galleons that Harry Potter can catch the snitch before the other three Seekers. They'll put that one thousand Galleons toward the charity of the winner's choice."

Harry groaned, even as he looked at the other three. Bad odds here. Charlie was as out of practice as Harry was, but the other two were professionals, in training and fit as they could be. He looked at Charlie, to find Charlie looking back. "I'm going to kill all three of them."

Harry froze at the next announcement. "The Weasley's have stated that if they win, the money will go to the Ginny Weasley Memorial Scholarship Fund at Hogwarts."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a taker on Miss Star. Mr. Botts, of Flourish and Botts has bet one thousand Galleons on her."

"And we have a better on Mr. Krum. Mrs. Davenport is betting on Victor Krum."

"We have a better on Mr. Weasley. The owner of the Chudley Cannons has put his money on Mr. Weasley. Would the competitors please land?"

Harry was not listening to the announcer any more. He followed the others down. Hermione was sitting next to Ron and the Quidditch kids that had talked Harry into this. She was watching Harry with Omninoculars and she swore under her breath. "Ron, look at Harry," she said urgently, passing the Omninoculars to him. He focussed on Harry.

Harry was blank faced, going somewhere deep inside himself. Hermione and Ron had seen this face many times during the war. Harry was gearing up to do whatever it took to accomplish his goal.

Ron looked at Hermione and both of them turned to watch Harry, concern pulsing with their heartbeats.

Harry heard the call to go as if from a great distance and lifted off, pushing his broomstick for speed, trying to get above his opponents. He started scanning for the Snitch. Fred and George had known exactly what button to push on Harry. He had started the Ginny Weasley fund, and it was his personal project, even drawing him out into public when needed.

A thousand Galleons would be a great boost to the fund, and Harry was going to get that money.

A glint of gold sent him arcing over, until he realized it was merely a cap some spectator was wearing. He paused, checking on the opposition. Victor was cruising on a level with Harry, but going in the opposite direction.

Miss Star was slightly lower than the two of them, making figure eights that gave her a constantly changing view of the Pitch. Charlie was between the three of them, making tight circles in the middle of the Pitch.

Victor suddenly dove, and the other three followed, searching the area ahead of them for the snitch. As they got lower, Harry suddenly remembered the only game he'd ever seen Victor play in. He eased off, falling back slightly and was rewarded as Victor snapped up, narrowly missing the stands as he climbed again.

Miss Star was right on his tail, and her robes brushed the stands as she followed him.

Charlie's broom wasn't on the same level with the other three, and he was far enough back when Victor came out of the Wronski Feint to break off.

Harry, having slowed down, was the highest now, and he searched the sky frantically. This was his best shot.

The Snitch didn't make an appearance though, and they went back to their patterns. Harry blinked as he recognized something. The two professionals were constantly moving, trying to make unpredictable jumps in their flight. Harry realized they were thinking about Bludgers. They had always played with a full team, and practised against a full team.

Harry suddenly stopped, holding his Broomstick still. Without his movement complicating things, it was far easier to search for the Snitch. He scanned the Pitch, one section at a time, and was rewarded with a glimpse of the Snitch. It was too far away for him to break after, but he could provide the others something to think about.

Harry turned his Broom toward the northern goals and took off. The stunt he was about to pull had been foolhardy the first time he did it, but he'd had three Death Eaters on his tail, and it had worked.

"Potter is off, closely followed by Weasley, Star and Krum, who had been the furthest away. He's headed for the goals, but I haven't seen the Snitch yet, unless it's playing hide and seek in the goals."

"The other three are catching up slowly and neck and neck with each other. Potter isn't slowing down at all. He's heading for the goals, aiming at the middle one, with the others just a few metres behind him."

Harry steeled himself, pushing physical feeling away from his mind as he shot through the centre goal, slowing as hard as he could. The others were just even with him when he reached out and grabbed the goal.

His arm wrenched hard and Harry vaguely felt something in his shoulder give way, but the way was clear now, as he was facing the way he'd come and the others overshot the goals and started turning in more conventional ways. Harry kicked his Firebolt back up and was a quarter of the way across the Pitch, the Snitch the only thing he saw as the others followed.

Ron and Hermione had figured out what Harry was going to do, having helped him to the Infirmary the last time he did it, and they watched as Harry hit the goals and turned, sharper than anyone could, under normal circumstances. Ron was up and running for the Cannon's Healer with Hermione just behind him.

Harry had the Snitch in sight, but it was playing hard to get, as it took off, shooting straight up. Harry followed it, unaware of the others cutting a sharper angle and closing the distance.

Suddenly, the Snitch reversed its course, shooting by Harry, and Harry reached out, grabbing it with the hand he hadn't used to turn on the goal.

He caught it, but before he could hold it up, he was falling. In his determination to win, Harry had forgotten the pain in his other arm. Without his good arm, the dislocated shoulder simply couldn't hold on to the Broomstick at these speeds, and Harry fell, tumbling though the sky.

_**OoOoOoO Victor Krum. OoOoOoO**_

Victor had realized what Harry had done as soon as Harry did it. His admiration for the man rose. Harry had been an unwilling but truly worthy challenger in the Tri-Wizard's tournament, and that had not changed. He tore after Harry as fast as he could and was gloating when he started up. By cutting the angle, Victor was gaining ground, until the Snitch went backward.

He saw Harry catch it and slowed, sighing. It took him a second to realize that Harry wasn't on his Broomstick any more, and he swore violently as he dove. He was far too high to have a good chance to stop him before they both hit the ground, but he'd be damned if he'd let that man fall without trying.

_**OoOoOoO Charlie Weasley. OoOoOoO**_

Charlie had been as taken in by Harry's turn as the other two, and he was far behind them as they shot after Harry. He knew his Broomstick wasn't a match for the other Broomsticks out here, but it was for charity, and he'd give it a go. He saw Harry catch the Snitch and start to fall.

Charlie watched in panic as Harry fell. His Broomstick would never get him there in time. Charlie still started that way. He had a goodly knowledge of Healing spells, as all Dragon handlers did and they would be needed.

The Weasleys owed that man at least four Life Debts, and Charlie was not going to let him die without a fight.

_**OoOoOoO Alexandria Star. OoOoOoO**_

"_He's crazy."_ That had been her thought when she figured out how he'd made that sudden turn, even as she turned and shot after him. She saw the Snitch and realized that he'd done it deliberately, to draw the rest of them out of position. She shook her head as she angled up to follow him. _"It's a good thing I don't have to face him in a Match."_

She saw him catch the Snitch, and shook her head again. She frowned and gasped as she realized his Firebolt was still going up, but Harry wasn't on it. She pulled her wand and dove, knowing she couldn't get there, but she could get close enough to cast a cushioning spell on the ground.

She hoped.

_**OoOoOoO Ron and Hermione. OoOoOoO**_

They had the Healer and were returning as Harry caught the Snitch. The roar of the crowd drowned out Hermione's scream as he started to fall. Ron swore and started running onto the Pitch. Hermione stopped, pulled her wand, looked at the Pitch and Apparated.

_**OoOoOoO The Crowd. OoOoOoO**_

"Whoa! A sharp turn by Mr. Potter has him going the other way and he's picking up speed even as the other three try to turn. I'm not sure how he did that, but I've never seen a sharper turn! There! The Snitch is directly ahead of him, and Mr. Potter has a clear shot at it, with the others at least forty metres behind him. The Snitch is going up, and Potter is right behind it, but Krum is cutting air from him and catching up quickly! This is turning into quite the race!"

"The Snitch has reversed itself and Harry Potter catches." The announcer broke off. His next statement was a mere whisper, audible only because of his Sonorus charm

"Oh Merlin, he's falling!"

_**OoOoOoO The Author, Here and Now. OoOoOoO**_

_Hehehe. I'm very sorry to leave it like this... What am I saying? This is the perfect place to leave off. Ah, the joys of finding a good cliffie. I love it. Neville will say yes, and next chapter, we'll find out how long Harry is going to be in the hospital, if he is, and Hermione is going to figure something very important out._


	4. Beginnings, Disputes and Deals

_Alrighty then, the background is over and the story begins. Neville will be letting Harry and Hermione know that he's willing to go ahead, and then the fun begins. I'd tell you what I mean, but that would make the story unnecessary, wouldn't it?_

_**Muggle Magic & Wizard Science**_

_**Chapter Four**_

_**Beginnings, Disputes and Deals.**_

_**OoOoOoO Everyone, The Chudley Cannons Charity Event. OoOoOoO**_

"Whoa! A sharp turn by Mr. Potter has him going the other way and he's picking up speed even as the other three try to turn. I'm not sure how he did that, but I've never seen a sharper turn! There! The Snitch is directly ahead of him, and Mr. Potter has a clear shot at it, with the others at least forty metres behind him. The Snitch is going up, and Potter is right behind it, but Krum is cutting air from him and catching up quickly! This is turning into quite the race!"

"The Snitch has reversed itself and Harry Potter catches." The announcer broke off. His next statement was a mere whisper, audible only because of his Sonorus charm

"Oh Merlin, he's falling!"

_**OoOoOoO Harry, In Rapid Descent. OoOoOoO**_

Harry swore as he watched his broomstick continue going the other way as he started to fall. He dropped the Snitch and pulled his wand, turning to face the rapidly approaching ground. _"Every time I play, something seems to happen," _he thought as he started casting a lightening spell, slowing his fall somewhat, _"It's a good thing I never went Pro, I'd have never lived out the year." _Harry was wondering what to do next when a hand grabbed his robes. Harry looked over his shoulder and words failed him as he stared numbly at his rescuer.

_**OoOoOoO Hermione. OoOoOoO**_

Hermione saw Harry falling and his Broomstick continuing to go up. As Ron ran for the Pitch Hermione stopped and make the quickest calculations of her life. She Apparated.

Hermione reappeared within centimetres of her target and grabbed it. She pulled Harry's Broomstick to her and half mounted it, turning down as she did. She knew how to fly of course, and despite Ron and Harry's teasing about her skill, she was capable of average flight. That Harry and most of her friends were capable of so much more was the result of their Quidditch obsession.

She pushed and reached Harry, grabbing his robes. He looked back and if the situation hadn't been so scary, Hermione would have laughed at his expression. "Get on the bloody Broom," was all she said though, as she fought to hold Harry and control the Broomstick.

Harry reached up and grabbed his Broomstick, climbing up next to Hermione, as she fought to slow their descent. "Take it up," Harry said as he got behind her and put his arms around her to hold on.

Hermione frowned but started to direct the Broomstick up as he held her. They finally stopped falling and Hermione held the Broomstick still. "Harry," she said calmly, far more calmly than she felt, "Would you take over, please?"

Harry looked down before he said anything. "Hermione, put your feet down."

Hermione did, years of following Harry during the War allowing her to trust him. She blinked when her feet touched something soft and looked down.

They were hovering about fifteen centimetres from the ground. Hermione was a smart woman, and it didn't take long for her to realize just how close they'd come to being a squashy spot on the Pitch.

_**OoOoOoO Everyone, The Pitch. OoOoOoO**_

Victor Krum was the first to see Hermione reappear above the Pitch. He was closer and had a Seeker's eye. He realized what she'd done and his admiration for the woman who'd caught his eye all those years ago rose again. He wasn't sure he could pull something like that off. He eased off his breakneck speed and was just above them when they finally stopped. He'd heard a spell being cast behind him and turned to look.

Alexandria Star had gotten close enough to cast her spell, only to have it not be needed, but she didn't care, she'd tried. She was a lot more interested in where the Witch sitting on Harry's Broomstick had come from. She had been concentrating on her spell and missed Hermione's entrance.

Charley Weasley had seen it though, being further back than the rest and he landed next to Harry. "Are you two OK?" he asked, watching the two of them.

Harry was acutely aware that Hermione was not moving at all, and he put his feet down, getting off the Broomstick. It didn't move as he went around to look at Hermione. She was staring straight ahead and her face was very pale. Harry reached out and tried to take her hand, but Hermione had a death grip on the Broomstick. "Hermione?" he said softly.

Hermione, now that the moment of danger was past, had just realized what she'd done, and how many ways she could have been killed trying this stunt. She broke out in a cold sweat and the noise of the crowd seemed to recede as her vision greyed around the edges.

Harry saw her go paler, and he put his good arm around her. "Hermione," he said a bit more urgently. "Look at me."

Hermione heard his voice and looked up into Harry's eyes. They were dark with concern for her and she smiled weakly, trying to reassure him that she was fine. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Harry took a deep breath. He'd seen enough cases of shock in the War to know what was happening right now. Before he could do anything, other people began arriving. Victor, Alexandria and Charley were the first, followed closely by Ron.

Harry put his good arm around Hermione and looked at Ron. "Let's get to the Healer, Ron." He let his arm dangle and smiled sheepishly at Ron and Hermione. "I seem to have hurt myself again."

Ron sighed. "Really? I never would have guessed. Whatever possessed you to use that turn, anyway?"

Hermione blinked at she heard Ron berating Harry for getting hurt. She looked at Harry and saw his arm dangling and the odd shape of his shoulder. She focussed on that, ignoring the light-headed feeling that was making her thinking slow.

Hermione finally let go of Harry's Broomstick and pulled her wand. She cast a numbing charm on Harry's arm, something she'd had a lot of practice at during the war. Harry smiled at her. "Thanks, Hermione. Ron was always bad at that spell."

Ron looked offended for a minute. "Hey." He stared at his friends. "I only made that mistake once."

Harry and Hermione started toward the Cannon's Infirmary at Harry's urging. Harry was very much aware that there were dozens of newspaper people here today. "Hermione," he said, trying to act normal, despite her pale face and wide eyes. "I think I am beginning to understand why you always wanted to yell at me when I did some Gryffindorish thing. You scared the daylights out of me up there."

Hermione blinked at him several times and finally found her voice. "Scared you? If I had stopped to think about what I was doing, I'd have wet myself."

Ron snickered and Hermione glared at him. Ron held up his hands. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but I never thought I'd ever hear that phrase from you. 'If I'd stopped to think?' Hermione did something without thinking? I don't believe it."

They reached the door of the Infirmary and the waiting Healer. He ushered the three of them inside with Krum, Charlie and Star.

The Healer closed the door behind them and cast a spell on it. "Good afternoon folks. Would the non-injured people wait over there, please?" He waved at a few chairs. "Mr. Potter, if you would follow me, please."

Harry grabbed Hermione's hand when she turned to follow the others. "Come with me, please?"

Hermione nodded. They followed the Healer into a small room. He turned to Harry. "Off with the shirt. Let me see what you've done to your shoulder."

Harry required Hermione's help to get his shirt over the shoulder he'd injured. Hermione shivered when she saw the deformed joint. Harry sighed. "We've seen worse," he reminded her.

Hermione glared at him. "Yes, we did. In _War_, Harry. _Not_ at charity events that are supposed to be _fun_. What were you thinking? Were you thinking at all?"

The Healer was listening as he collected a couple of potions. "Thank you, Miss Granger. Usually, I have to yell at the players to be more careful, but you're doing fine."

Harry sighed. "I like to win." He grinned. "After all, I always get the Snitch, unless I'm unconscious. I can't let that change."

Hermione stared at him for a minute. "Harry Potter, that may be the single most illogical thing I've ever heard you say."

The Healer snickered. "Ron's been going on about trying to get Mr. Potter here on the team. I hope you don't let him talk you into it, not with that attitude. I'd never get a day off with you around."

Hermione sighed. "I should be used to this. I really should. Harry absolutely has to get hurt every few months, or he's not being Harry."

Harry winced as the Healer rotated his arm and the shoulder slipped back into place with a wet pop. Hermione jumped, looking at Harry. "You're going to misjudge that turn one of these days and tear that arm off entirely."

The Healer was holding out a potion. "Mr. Potter, I have to apologize for the taste. I try to keep the players from doing things to come see me, and that includes using Madame Pomfrey's taste enhancement."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. "Her what?" Harry asked.

"Madame Pomfrey created a potion additive that does not effect the potion, but makes it taste absolutely foul to everyone that takes it. It helps keep people out of the Hogwarts Infirmary for silly things." The Healer grinned at them. "Surely you didn't think that all medicines always taste foul?"

Harry snorted. "I don't think I've ever had one that tasted good."

The Healer smiled. "Go to a Healer that charges for their services, Mr. Potter. Medical potions don't have to taste this way." He handed Harry a potion. "You're torn up that shoulder before, but in case you forgot, take it easy for a couple of days and try not to rip it out of the socket again."

Harry choked down the potion and felt the familiar warmth wash over his shoulder. "I think I can avoid that for a day or two at least."

Ron knocked on the door and stuck his head in the room. "I hate to interrupt, but there's a huge crowd out here waiting to talk to Hermione about her rescue of Harry."

Hermione stared at Ron. "What?"

Harry smirked. "Welcome to the public. You Apparated to a broomstick and saved the Boy Who Lived. The press is going to be after you for at least a day or two."

Hermione sighed. "Do I have to?" Her expression suggested that she'd rather be pulled backwards through broken glass.

Harry nodded. "Yes. First, this is a good beginning, they're going to be nice to you. Second, you're a member of the Wizengamot now, and we can't afford to alienate the press. You'll be seeing them fairly often from now on."

Harry lowered his voice. "And if this project we're working on succeeds, you're going to see a lot of these people, so you might as well get used to it."

Hermione sighed again. "You're staying with me, Mr. Potter. You're responsible for me being here after all."

Harry put his shirt back on carefully. "I will. They'll have some questions for me, anyway." He smiled. "But it will be nice not to be the focus of their attention for once." Harry thanked the Healer and they stepped out into the other room.

"You haff not changed, Harry Potter. You are still a worthy opponent." Victor Krum's accent had eased over the years, leaving just a trace. He held his hand out. "It has been a few years, yes?"

Harry shock his hand. "It has indeed, Mr. Krum. I have followed your career with interest."

Krum waved that off. "Few Seekers in the league today are a good challenge. Two of the best are right here," he said waving a hand to include Harry and Miss Star. "You would be a great addition to any team, Mr. Potter, except mine. I like being the starting Seeker." Victor smiled at Harry.

Harry grinned and looked at Miss Star. "I appreciate your efforts on my behalf, Miss Star. Thank you."

Ron looked puzzled. "What did she do? I must have missed it."

"She cast a cushioning charm on the ground," Harry explained, "I felt it when we stood up."

Ron nodded and then frowned. "How do you know it was her?"

Harry smirked. "I, unlike some people, pay attention to the people around me, especially when they're holding a wand. She was the only with a wand in her hand, so it must have been her, unless someone around here can cast a wandless cushioning charm."

Ron looked at the Seeker. "I'll add my thanks to Harry's. The family would never let me hear the end of it if Harry got hurt here."

Alexandria shrugged. "Mr. Potter proved to be a great Seeker. I would hate for him to get hurt before I had a chance to play him professionally." She grinned at Harry. "Since I don't have to worry about him taking my job."

Harry had been aware of the man standing in the corner listening to them but as he was being quiet and not saying anything, Harry just kept an eye on the owner of the Chudley Cannons. That changed when he moved forward. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I have to thank you for an entertaining afternoon, and the help you've given us for the charities of the day. Mr. Potter, if you're ever in need of a job, I could use a Seeker." He looked out the window. "Right now though, the press is rather more interested in talking to Miss Granger."

Hermione sighed. "Let's get this over with. Harry, you owe me dinner for this."

Harry blinked, not understanding. "How do I owe you dinner?"

"If you hadn't pulled that stunt, I wouldn't be facing this. Therefore, you owe me dinner." She smiled slyly. "Unless the press isn't that bad, and you'll go out and explain to them that I can't do interviews right now?"

Harry sighed. "One dinner, your choice of restaurant and day."

Hermione smiled again and took a deep breath. She opened the door and the two of them stepped out.

Hermione kept her face calm only because she'd seen this sort of thing directed at Harry many times. It was, as Harry had said, different when it was aimed your way. Two dozen reporters were yelling all sorts of questions at her, flashbulbs were popping and blinding her and the confusion was nearly total.

"QUIET." Hermione shook her head. That Sonorus enhanced shout had been Harry, right in her ear. It worked though, as everyone shut up and the photographers stopped taking pictures. In fact, Hermione didn't see a camera anywhere suddenly.

Harry looked at the crowd. "People, I will apply the same rules in this session as I do for my press conferences. It is Miss Granger's first, so I am helping her out. If she wishes to change the rules for the next one, she will let you know."

One reporter raised his hand. Hermione knew what to do with that at least. "Yes?"

"Jean Paul LaFoote, of the Paris Parchment," he introduced himself in a faint French accent. "Miss Granger, where were you when you Apparated to the Broomstick?"

Hermione looked at the stands thinking until Ron leaned over her shoulder and muttered something in her ear. "Mr. Weasley informs me that we were under the Merlin section, about forty metres from the Pitch."

The group turned to look at the bleachers. One of the reporters raised his hand and Hermione pointed to him. "Robert Greengrass, The Wizard's Eye. Miss Granger, how did you reappear so close to the Broomstick?"

Hermione shrugged. "I guessed at the speed of the Broomstick and how far it would travel by the time I Apparated. It was a good guess."

The questions continued about the rescue for a few minutes and then the tone of the questions changed as the reporters took the chance to ask about Hermione's plans in the Wizengamot and her opinion of various things the Wizengamot was working on.

"Miss Granger, what is your relationship with Mr. Potter? You appeared to be fairly close in the Daily Prophet's picture."

Hermione looked at Harry and smiled. "Of course we're close, we were in the same House at Hogwarts, and fought Voldemort together for nearly a decade. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are my two best friends."

One of the reporters grinned. "Damn good friends, if you'll risk your life for them."

Hermione shrugged again, blushing faintly. "Harry's been saving people since his first year at Hogwarts, it's about time someone returned the favour."

Harry tapped her on the shoulder. "I think we're both saved the other enough to stop keeping track, don't you?"

The reporters asked a couple more questions and then Harry started looking at his watch with every question and the reporters got the point.

As the trio walked toward the Pitch to finish out the day, Ron looked at Harry. "How come you weren't there for my first interview?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Ron, you were a Keeper for a national team, just signed to a contract, one of the heroes of the war and you had the team's support." Harry grimaced. "Plus, at that time the reporters didn't give me this kind of respect either. It took nearly a year of banning them from my interviews and hexing the fools that broke my rules to get a bit of decorum in the whole thing."

Hermione frowned at Harry. "You've been hexing a lot of people since you joined the Wizengamot, Harry."

Harry sighed. "I know it. I would rather not hex anyone that isn't using that term, but some of the Wizard folk are thicker than the Dursleys were." Harry grinned at a memory and Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.

Harry always smiled when he mentioned the Dursleys these days, and Hermione's careful investigation had revealed three facts that worried her considerably. The Dursleys had moved out in the middle of the night one day, taking all their things without anyone on the block seeing anything. The house had been sold to a young couple with three children for less than half of its value. The last fact Hermione had been able to find out was that the Dursleys were not to be found anywhere in England, Scotland or Ireland. She would have liked to have searched other parts of the world, but her influence didn't extend that far.

She had confided in Ron and they had decided that Harry had done something. What he'd done was up for debate, and Harry wouldn't say a word. Ron had even tried to get him drunk once, and all Harry would say was "They're in a hell you and I can only imagine." He'd refused to say any more than that.

Harry saw the look they exchanged while he smiled and it made him smile more. He was waiting to see how long Hermione would go without asking him outright what had happened to the Dursleys.

He turned his thoughts back to the topic at hand. "The fact is, most Wizards think there are no consequences to their actions since almost everything you do to them is fixed in an hour or so. That's why most of my hexes these days are embarrassing. Embarrassment and the memory of it last longer than any Transfiguration or Curse."

Hermione considered what Harry was saying. She had to admit that he had a point. When even broken bones were fixed overnight, anything you did to a Wizard or Witch was over so soon that no one learned a lesson from their behaviour. It was fine in games, where magic made games far more challenging that anything a Muggle could hope to do, but when it came to correcting bias or prejudice, magical healing made it very hard to make a dent in the thinking of stubborn people.

Hermione frowned. She'd missed the true point entirely. "Harry, they are people, they have a right to their opinions."

Harry nodded. "So am I, and my opinion is that most Wizards should be a little more tolerant of Muggles, Muggleborn, non-humans and other sentient races. If they can't be, then they should be worms, because they demonstrate all the intelligence of one." Harry smirked as they reached their seats. "I simply have to power to make my opinion true."

The trio had a great time for the rest of the day. Harry gave the aspiring Seeker a few hints and tips, flying with him for nearly an hour. He was amused to find that before he'd been with the boy ten minutes, his class had grown to nearly thirty people, including the current Seeker for the Cannons.

Harry was yawning by the time he'd finished talking to all the would be Seekers and the sun was sliding toward to horizon.

Ron was already gone, having found a young lady who enjoyed listening to his stories about Quidditch, and as Harry flew back to the stands, he saw that almost everyone was gone, with just a few parents of the kids he'd been teaching left, and one figure that made him smile. Hermione was sitting in the stands and waved at him.

_**OoOoOoO Hermione, watching Harry. OoOoOoO**_

Hermione watched a smiling Harry be dragged onto the Pitch. She watched as people started congregating around him. She watched him fly with half an eye while she thought. Hermione was a very logical sort of person, and she started examining herself critically.

When Harry had started falling, she'd been scared. Not just scared, but bone deep afraid in a way she'd never experienced before. She worried at that feeling, closing her eyes and remembering just why she'd pulled the craziest stunt of her life.

Harry. It all came back to Harry. She'd been afraid she was going to lose him. It was that fear that drove her to try a stunt she would never have even dreamed she could do. What she couldn't figure out is why she'd been so afraid. Harry had been in dozens of worse situations during the war, and she'd never been that afraid before. What had changed?

She imagined Ron in that same situation, but it didn't come close to raising the same sort of feelings in her. What was different between them? She watched Harry showing the kids how to do a Wronski Feint, at a greatly reduced speed of course and as she watched him with a smile, it came to her.

She loved Ron, as her friend, as a former boyfriend and as a brother.

The feelings she had for Harry were not remotely sisterly.

Hermione sat and thought about it for nearly an hour until she admitted it to herself.

She loved Harry, in ways she'd never felt for anyone before, not her parents, not Victor, not even Ron.

She watched Harry teaching and had to smile. That was what he should be doing, right there. It showed in the unguarded smile and endless patience he had with all of the people that were listening to him, even though even Hermione could tell that a few of them were only there because it was Harry Potter talking.

He never looked so open in Diagon Alley or the Wizengamot chambers. Not even when he took her to the dances and events did he look this happy. Hermione frowned at that thought. Harry was far too young to be getting burned out on the people of the Wizard world, and yet everything he said showed that he was getting tired of the things they asked of him.

Hermione looked at the man she'd grown to care about more than anyone and she resolved to help him out any way she could.

She watched him flying and sighed. She had a new problem. How was she going to let Harry know that she loved him, without Harry running for the hills?

Harry was still lost in his emotional past, mourning a girl who'd died in Hogwarts. Ginny Weasley had been what Harry needed then, Hermione didn't deny it. She'd been determined, brave and willing to jerk Harry up short when he started with the depressions he'd been subject to then. Losing her, especially on the night that should have been Harry's finest night, had scarred him badly.

He'd told Hermione, that since then he'd made Ginny more than she'd ever managed in life, but he couldn't help it. He'd been in love, and the first love never truly fades away. Losing his love like he had, it was not surprising that he'd put her on a pedestal.

Hermione sighed. She'd dated Victor exactly twice and exchanged letters for less than six months.

She'd fallen into dating Ron, not so much out of love, though that had grown while they were together, but because the Order had locked them up together in Grimmauld Place during their fifth summer, and Ron had been there all the time, as well as the only person close to Hermione's age. Hermione had also been having one of the events of puberty and her hormones had been raging, which had not helped a bit. Having seen Molly Weasley's pleasure at their relationship, she sometimes wondered if Molly, at least, hadn't planned on that.

Hermione sighed again. She'd never really went looking for a relationship, and she had only the vaguest idea about how you let a boy know you liked him, short of just walking up and telling him, a tactic that she was certain would not work well on Harry.

She thought about it. She needed help with this problem. She tabled the situation as she saw Harry flying toward her. She waved at him and smiled as he waved back.

_**OoOoOoO Harry and Hermione, Hermione's House, Later that night. OoOoOoO**_

Harry had been tired, and Hermione had asked him just to sit down for a minute while she made him a cup of tea, not wanting him to Apparate home in a half awake state. That often led to Splinching.

She'd come out of the kitchen to find Harry sleeping on the couch. She looked at him. Harry had a small smile on his face and he was relaxed, open in a way she only saw when he was teaching.

Hermione smiled and sat down beside Harry, picking up a thick book she'd gotten from the University she attended. Cloning was not a discipline she knew that much about, and she was determined to change that.

She read about DNA, Splicings and theories while Harry slept and the tea got cold. She blushed when Harry laid his head on her shoulder, but didn't move it and went back to her book.

Mary and Edward Granger looked at the couple sleeping on their couch. Harry had leaned over and was resting on Hermione, who had turned half way toward Harry. Mr Granger sighed. "I should be screaming at Harry for where his head is right now."

Mary took his hand. "You leave them alone. I think it's cute." She smiled at the couple. "On the other hand... let me get the camera."

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Even later that night. OoOoOoO**_

Harry woke slowly, aware of a sound in his ears. The room was dark and it took Harry a minute to realize where he was. He figured it out as a car's lights passed over the window, and he started to stretch. The pillow he was leaning on moved and Harry froze. He turned his head slowly and realized two things very quickly.

The sound he was hearing was Hermione's heartbeat, and he was laying on Hermione's -.

Harry was standing so quickly he half thought he'd Apparated from the couch. He stared at Hermione, who simply murmured and slid down a bit, finding a more comfortable spot.

Harry stared at her, blushing deeply. Thank Merlin she didn't know where his head had been. He turned to leave and then stopped. He looked at Hermione and bit his lip. He bent over her and carefully picked her up.

Hermione snuggled her head into his shoulder and curled up in his arms. Harry took her up the stairs, stopping part way to cast a lightening spell on Hermione.

He shook his head. This looked so easy in the films he vaguely remembered from the Muggle world.

He laid Hermione on her bed and slipped her shoes off. A minute later she was covered with a blanket and Harry was gone.

_**OoOoOoO Hermione, The next morning, her bedroom. OoOoOoO**_

Hermione woke to the tapping of an owl at her window. She opened the window and took the letter from the owl. She was opening it when a thought struck her. She didn't remember coming to bed and she'd never gone to bed in her own room in her clothes.

She thought back. She'd been reading with Harry's head on her shoulder. Ah, she must have fallen asleep there. She thought about it and decided Harry must have brought her to bed. Her mother would have woken her, and her father always put her under the covers, not wanting to use grandmother's old blanket.

Harry didn't know that the old blanket was a keepsake, not for use, so he'd used it.

Hermione forgot all of that though, as she read the short note from Neville.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Let's do it._

_Neville_

Hermione closed her eyes. Thank Merlin. Now, she had work to do.

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Harry's Hideout. OoOoOoO**_

Harry rubbed his eyes, feeling the strain of too much practice, trying to improve his wandless skills. Wandless casting was incredibly hard, and few Wizards could do it at all. Fewer still could cast more than one or two spells that way, and Harry was trying to learn his fourth spell.

He could already cast a simple opening spell, such as he'd used on the Wizengamot doors, a disarming spell, learned during the war in case he was ever disarmed, and a basic summoning spell, mostly to summon his glasses or wand.

Now he was trying to master a simple levitation spell. He had the basics down, and could levitate an object the size of a marble. Now, it was simply a matter of increasing the size of things he could lift.

He went into his kitchen and got a pot of tea started before remembering what had happened last night. He blushed again at the thought of having Hermione wake up and find Harry using her chest as a pillow. He'd never be able to look her in the face without blushing again. It was going to be hard enough to do now.

It didn't help that he kept remembering how nice it had felt.

Harry blushed again. Sweet Merlin. He was not going to think about Hermione's womanly bits, that was just.

Harry stopped. He thought about their dinner date and Edward Granger grilling him about Hermione and private rooms. "Oh, Sweet Merlin," he muttered to the empty room. "I said she wasn't a woman. Why am I still alive?"

Harry frowned. He had to make that better, and soon. He had no desire at all to have that Witch plotting any sort of revenge in his direction. Harry looked around his private space.

Harry lived in Godric's Hollow, in the rebuilt house that was his last solid link to his parents. He had Potter Manor, but that place echoed eerily with just one person in it. If he ever got married, he would think about opening the Manor. Sirius had left him a couple of places that were Black family properties and this place.

It was a small four room house set in the woods somewhere. Harry wasn't sure where, all he knew was that only one Portkey could bring you here. There were anti Apparation wards, Anti Portkey wards, and Anti-Everything wards on multiple layers around the place. Muggle repelling wards, Wizard repelling wards, Creature repelling wards, and more, things Harry had never seen or even heard of.

The thought flashed through his mind that Hermione would give her eye teeth to study this place and he smiled.

He shook that thought off. The point was, that at some point in the past, some Black family member had created this place and made it so only one person could use it. Harry could bring one guest, and only one guest on the Portkey. He knew why, of course, Sirius had warned him about that.

This place was the repository of hundreds of years of Black family Dark knowledge.

Spells, Artefacts, things and more were stored in the basement of this place, and Harry hated going down there. It stank of evil, pain, fear and death. The ritual markings inscribed in the floor in one part of the room were stained with blood that would never come out. Harry's skin crawled the entire time he was down there. It didn't help that his imagination kept wondering how many 'guests' had been brought with the Portkey and never left here.

Harry sighed. Sirius had told him in the letter that came with the Portkey that he left this place to Harry because he knew Harry was strong enough to resist the lure of power and knowledge that the basement offered.

Voldemort would have killed half the world to gain access to that room and once he had it, he would have killed the other half playing with the things in there. Harry had barely started studying the room when he found two things Voldemort would have given his soul to have.

A Philosopher's Stone and an old knife. The Dagger of Kronos was a Myth, or so Harry had always been told, but it was in his basement. A simple bronze dagger, fourteen centimetres long, but according to legend, it would steal the life force of a victim and add it to the wielder's life when used with the proper ritual.

Harry was not going to kill somebody just to test it.

Harry sighed as he stopped thinking about his hideout and faced his problem. He'd made a very stupid comment and he had to set that right before Hermione did something drastic to him.

Harry needed Help with this. He'd never made a blunder this big. Harry had dated Cho once, and Ginny for a mere six months before the battle at Hogwarts, and he'd been far more careful with Ginny than he had been that night. That was the total extent of Harry's relationships with the opposite sex.

He sighed and took the Portkey that was the only access to this building. He put the ring on and disappeared.

_**OoOoOoO Hermione, Later that day, The Fish and Hook. OoOoOoO**_

Hermione smiled at the man walking up to her table. "Hello, Dr. Monroe. I'm glad you had the time to see me."

Dr Kevin Monroe was an older man, in his sixties, but looked forty. That was because he was a Muggleborn Wizard. He had found the Voldemort era too dangerous for a Wizard with barely any strength and retired to the Muggle world.

Hermione and her friends had found him during the second part of the Voldemort War and they'd become friends. "When my favourite Witch calls me and says she needs my professional advice, I have to come. Since you have access to magic, I can't imagine what you would need me for, unless it was something that you simply didn't want to announce."

Hermione sighed. "I do want this kept secret, but it's your knowledge of people that I need. Are any of the Muggleborn or the Friends of Magic specialists in cloning?"

Kevin blinked at the odd question. "Not that I know of, but I can find out fairly quickly. Why do you need that speciality?"

Hermione sighed again. "Keep this quiet." She explained her idea to him. Being a Wizard, he could follow the magic well enough.

When she was done, he sat back and thought. "It sounds possible, but I don't know enough about cloning to say if it would work. We can find out though. I'll get back to you tomorrow about if any of the Friends are into that. I can tell you that none of the Muggleborn on my side of the world are into that sort of thing."

The Friends of Magic was a group Hermione had started after the events of their fifth year. Realizing that the ministry didn't care about Muggleborn Wizards and Witches that didn't live in the Wizard world, or the dozens of Muggles that knew about magic, Hermione had started contacting the ones she could find to warn them about Voldemort.

It had grown rapidly, with each person she contacted contacting more, and soon someone had suggested a network of people that could help each other if they needed it. Thus was the Friends of Magic born.

With the Purebloods still in charge, Hermione and a few others kept the network going, just in case it was needed. Many of the Muggles and Muggleborn used it in the Muggle world, but it was rarely used by those who lived in the Wizard world.

Hermione was hoping to keep the cloning in the family, so to speak, so she wouldn't have to try and explain to a Muggle doctor that once the clones were well started, she was going to take them away and not finish them.

At least, not in any test tube.

They chatted a bit longer, passing news of each world and the people they knew back and forth. Kevin asked her about Harry.

Hermione blushed. "Harry has entered a new level of problem for me."

Kevin smirked. "It's about time you realized he was more than your friend."

Hermione frowned. "I'm not the problem there. Harry doesn't think I'm a woman, just his best friend."

"Ouch. He said that?" Kevin shook his head at her nod. He thought for a minute and then a smile grew on his face. "You know, I had a friend once that said something like that about a girl we both knew." He grinned at Hermione. "She pretended to ignore it, but a week later, she conned him into taking her to a restaurant. One that just happened to have a dance floor."

Kevin grinned again at Hermione's puzzled expression. "Harry, Hermione, nice robes, slow dancing. Need I say more?"

Hermione thought about it and smiled slowly. "You're the best, Kevin. Thank you."

She suddenly frowned. "Oh Merlin. That means another trip to Lavender's shop."

Kevin had to laugh at the expression on Hermione's face.

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Diagon Alley. OoOoOoO**_

Harry paused in front of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and sighed. He really hoped he would not be regretting this in an hour, or ever. He pushed the door open. He ducked the blue light that shot at his face and dove, rolling up with his wand in hand.

"Harry, wait!" Harry spun, his wand pointing at Lee Jordan's face. From the look on Lee's face, he was probably wishing he'd called in sick today. "It's just a small prank, harmless to everyone, oh Merlin, don't hex me," Lee babbled quickly.

Harry sighed and stood up. "Sorry, Lee. Old reflexes, you know?" Harry put his wand away, taking a deep breath and trying to convince his nerves that he wasn't under attack again.

"If our esteemed partner wouldn't forget his pocket piece, he wouldn't have that problem," said Fred.

Harry looked at him. "You mean that pocket watch you bought me?"

Fred nodded. "Yes. Among the other charms and things on it is a simple ward that stops the store pranks from attacking you."

Harry nodded. "I'll remember that. Right now, I need to speak to you and George privately. Very privately."

Fred looked at Harry. "Give me a minute, and we'll go up to the flat." Fred spoke to Lee and went in back. He came out a minute later with George. The thee of them went up to the flat the three couples shared.

It was far more spacious on the inside than the outside suggested but Harry had been here many times, and right now he was only interested in one thing. "Stand still, you two."

Harry pulled his wand and cast a spell. He waited a second and then cast six more spells in rapid succession. Fred and George looked at each other. The flat had several layers of wards already, and Harry had added even more. Whatever he wanted to discuss must be very top secret.

Harry finished casting and cast the first spell again. Satisfied with whatever it told him he turned to the twins. "Alright, I know you two are going to get a good laugh out of this, but if you ever tell anyone about it, I'll do things to you that you wouldn't do to Malfoy."

Fred and George blinked at Harry's tone. He was completely serious. "Why don't you tell us about it, and we'll see what we can do."

Harry grimaced. "You can help me save my neck and skin. I told Hermione's parents that Hermione wasn't a woman, just my best friend. Hermione heard me say it."

Fred and George stared at Harry for a very long minute.

"You said that,"

"In front of her,"

"And you're still walking,"

"talking and breathing?"

"How?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know, but I'm afraid she's planning some sort of revenge. I need help apologizing before I'm a inside out cactus or something equally unpleasant."

The twins looked at each other. "Harry, I'm not sure there is an apology big enough to cover that blunder," said Fred.

"By the way," added George almost absently as he thought about it, "if she does get you, let us see it. Anything Hermione comes up with has definite potential for prank possibilities, if we can duplicate it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're assuming I can move when she's done, something I'm not at all certain about."

"True."

Fred was staring at Harry. "Why did you bring this to us, anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "Who else is there? Neville doesn't offend Luna, and if he did, I'm fairly certain that the things that make Luna feel better don't match Hermione's taste. Ron is a great guy, but he's never worried about apologizing to any girl he's offended, even Hermione. On the other hand, you two are nearly legends for the number of times you've had to appease your ladies because you tested a new prank on them."

"That's true, George," Fred said, starting to smile.

"Too true, Fred. Maybe we should write a book."

"'Advice for men who have offended their ladies'?"

"Something simpler, I think. 'Getting out of the Kneazle den'."

Harry sighed, waiting for the twins to finish playing and give some real advice.

"This is what you're going to do, Harry," said George finally.

"Unless you've suddenly started sleeping with Hermione,"

"In which case we have better options."

Harry remembered the soft firmness of his pillows from last night and blushed. Fred and George looked at him and at each other. "Somebody is hiding something,"

"from us, I think."

The twins stopped, and Fred swallowed carefully, aware that Harry did not look amused and that his wand was currently tickling Fred's neck. "But we digress,"

"and since that is bad for the digestion,"

"and my neck,"

"Here's what you do."

Harry listened to them and sighed. "This better not be a prank," he warned them. "Thanks for the advice."

Fred and George watched Harry leave after taking down the spells he'd cast and looked at each other. "I'm going to win, Forge."

"I beg to differ, Gred. I will win the pool."

"Of course, if Harry ever finds out that almost everyone he knows,"

"has joined the betting pool,"

"on when he and Hermione,"

"would realize they were,"

"in love, it's not going to matter,"

"because we'll all be running,"

"for our lives."

The two of them looked at each other and sighed. They couldn't even tell the girls that it was finally happening.

_**OoOoOoO Hermione, Fashions and Fads. OoOoOoO**_

"Lavender, I need a set of robes. Ones that will knock Harry's socks off, without making me look like a tramp."

Lavender smiled. "Harry going to pay for his comment, I take it?"

Hermione smiled back, thinking about her plan, still forming in her head. "Oh, yes. He's going to regret he ever even thought that."

_**OoOoOoO Harry and Hermione, Halloween Night. OoOoOoO**_

Harry knocked on the door of Hermione's house and an older Wizard answered the door. "Come in, Harry," he said in Edward's voice, "Hermione is in her study."

Harry considered the figure in front of him with a smile. "Merlin?"

Edward raised himself to his full height. "Not on your life. I am Gandolf, the White Wizard."

Harry frowned. "I've never heard of him. When did he live, and what did he do?"

Edward sighed. "He's a character in a series of books, Harry, not a real Wizard."

Harry looked confused. "You have thousands of years of Wizard history to draw a costume from, and you pick a fake Wizard?" Harry shook his head. "Muggle Halloween parties are weird."

Edward sighed. "We'll see you later, Harry. Mary and I are going to a costume party." Edward looked at the expression on Harry's face and stopped the teasing remark he'd been planning. "Have a good time."

Harry nodded and started up the stairs. He knocked on the study door. "Come on in, Harry."

Harry entered to find Hermione in front of the computer. "What are you doing?"

Hermione typed something and responded absently. "I'm googling cloning and experts in the field, trying to match names against the Friends of Magic database."

Harry slowly smiled at the back of Hermione's head. "I thought googling was bad for you. Doesn't Madame Pomfrey have a potion for that?"

Hermione stopped typing for a second and turned to look at Harry. She saw the smile and turned back to the computer. "Very funny, Harry. Just for that, you can help me."

Harry blinked. "Um, Hermione, the last time I got near your computer, it nearly exploded, and I distinctly remember shelling out a few Galleons to replace it. Why would you want me to do that again?"

Hermione shook her head, still scrolling through the page she was looking at. "I want you to start a few ageing potions. We'll need at least ten, but we'll make fifteen, just in case. The instructions are on the board, and I'll come help in a bit."

Harry nodded, and went to the potion supplies, looking at the first ingredient. "Why does everything in the Wizard world have to have Beetle eyes in it?"

Harry had plenty of time to brood as he chopped, sliced and mashed potion bits.

Halloween had always been a bad night for him. At one, his parents were taken from him.

Until he was eleven, it had meant being locked in the cupboard under the stairs while Dudley got buckets of candy.

At eleven, it came to mean another attack on Harry or his friends by Voldemort. Harry could only remember one decent Halloween, without violence or a trip to the hospital wing of Hogwarts, and that had been last year.

With Voldemort dead and Harry hiding in the Gryffindor common room, the night had passed peacefully, although not happily, as it had also been the first anniversary of Ginny's death.

Harry sighed as he thought about her again. He didn't know what could have happened between them, but any chance of them being more than boy and girl friend had been taken by the curse Bellatrix had cast.

Whatever curse she'd used had not even left a body. Colin had seen the curse cast, seconds after Ginny gutted Snape, and while he'd never described the scene to Harry personally, it had been written about too many times for Harry not to know how Ginny had dissolved into a bloody goo that soon evaporated, leaving no trace of Ginny at all.

He'd found the spell, in the basement of the hideout and it was an ugly thing. He'd brought it to Hermione, hoping that she could think of something that could reverse it.

Hermione had studied the spell for a week, and brought him her conclusions. The spell, in Muggle terms, destroyed the cohesion of the body, releasing each atom from each other atom.

Harry had introduced a law in the Wizengamot to have it declared an Unforgivable, only to be told he'd have to show the spell to the Wizengamot. Since he suspected that there were more than a few people in the Wizengamot that were not trustworthy, he'd dropped the idea.

After all, it appeared that the Blacks had kept that spell a closely guarded secret, and Hermione and Harry might be the only two people on the planet that still knew it.

If so, Harry was not about to tell anyone else how to use it.

Hermione finished her research and turned to see how Harry was doing. She frowned as she saw his face. He was never great on Halloween, and it looked like he was brooding again. Hermione had a sudden urge just to walk up to him and snog him silly, but she restrained herself.

Harry would not appreciate that tonight, of all nights. In less than twenty years, he'd lost his parents, his first love and more than a dozen friends on Halloween nights, not to mention being injured several times and it was not the time to let him know how she felt about him.

Hermione took a minute to watch Harry. He was mashing something, concentrating on his work and she smiled slightly. Snape had not lived to see Harry get an O on his Potions NEWTs, which Hermione thought was a pity. Hermione's tutoring and two years of decent teachers had allowed Harry's native intelligence and skill to show itself.

Hermione smiled at the thought of Snape ever finding out that Harry thought making Potions was just like cooking. Read the recipe, gather the ingredients, mix,and poof, a finished meal, er, potion. Hermione rather thought that the very idea would give Snape a heart attack.

She shook her head as she suddenly realized she'd forgotten to tell Harry the news. "Harry, Neville agreed to try our plan."

Harry looked up, his eyes shining. "Good. I was wondering if he'd take it." Harry sighed, and chewed his lip. "I am still worried about the Dementor though. What if my Patronus is late, or it doesn't defeat the Dementor?"

Hermione thought about it. In truth, that was the weakest point of the plan and the most dangerous. From what Hermione had learned studying Voldemort's notes, the Soul was separate from the body for less than three seconds before it destroyed.

That was a very narrow window of opportunity to hang a life on. "I guess we'll have to go see Raul Yonkers, then."

Harry nodded. "I'll set it up tomorrow. Have you found a doctor that can deal with the cloning yet?"

"I don't know, yet," Hermione admitted. "I have a possibility, a man named Dr. Graham Benoit. He's on the Friends of Magic list, and he's mentioned in a study on cloning at a government think tank, but it doesn't say in what capacity. I sent him an email, asking for a meeting."

Harry shrugged and said, "I'll leave that to you. I can barely find the Leaky Cauldron from the Muggle side these days."

Hermione frowned. "I hope you can do better than that, Mr. Potter. You owe me a dinner, and I want to go to a Muggle place in London."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why?"

Hermione sighed. "Harry, do you even realize the great advantage of being in the Muggle world? You're not even a name there. Nobody would be jumping on you, trying to get you to do things, they won't care about you at all. If we're going on a dinner date, I don't want it interrupted by people wanting to talk to either of us, simply because they recognize us."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I can understand that. In fact, it sounds like a very good idea to me."

Hermione sighed softly. She'd have to save the robes Lavender was making for another time. She'd offered the Muggle idea on the spur of the moment, but now that she thought about it, it was a very good idea. She looked at Harry again, and sighed as she saw him brooding again.

She stared at him and suddenly had an idea. "Harry, put that stuff down. I have something I want to show you."

Harry frowned at the potion supplies he had in neat piles around him. "I'm almost ready to start the first one, can't it wait?"

Hermione came over and took his hand firmly, resisting the urge to kiss him again. "That can wait. This, on the other hand, is something you need to learn how to do."

Harry allowed himself to be dragged out of the room and down the stairs. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to have a Muggle night. Popcorn and a film." Hermione stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to Harry, holding out her hand. "Give me the wand, Harry. I'll put it on the mantle, so you can summon it if you have to, but I want this to be a Muggle night."

Harry stared at her. Hermione didn't know how much he depended on having his wand with him. It wasn't something he wanted anyone to know, but his wand had not been more than a foot away from him since Albus Dumbledore's murder.

"Please, Harry? Trust me?" Harry looked at Hermione and sighed. He twitched his arm in the strange motion that send his wand shooting out of the forearm sheath and handed it to Hermione.

She placed it on the mantle over the fireplace and went to the collection of films that took up most of one wall. Finding the one she wanted, she put it in the VCR and told Harry to sit down.

Harry watched the previews before the 'feature attraction' whatever that was, and by the time they finished, Hermione was back with two cokes and a bowl of popcorn. She sat down next to Harry and sighed happily. "I love this film. It's called 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail'."

Harry was about to ask Hermione something when she shushed him. "The film is starting."

Mr. and Mrs. Granger stepped into the living room of their house after the party to find a truly unusual sight.

Hermione and Harry were laughing uproariously and throwing popcorn and conjured toast at the screen of the TV.

They looked at the TV, and withdrew to the kitchen. Mrs. Granger smiled at her husband. "I could almost join them. The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a classic."

Mr. Granger smiled at her. "I think we'd only be in the way. Let's go to bed, and remember them in the morning."

Hand in hand, they went upstairs without ever being seen by the kids in the living room.

_**OoOoOoO Harry and Hermione, the next morning. OoOoOoO**_

Harry reached up and scratched his nose without opening his eyes. He yawned and finally opened his eyes. He blinked as he realized that he was laying on the floor of the Granger's living room and that Hermione was draped across him, with her head pillowed on his chest, much as his had been on her.

He was also uncomfortably aware that she had one leg thrown over him and that most of her body was pressed against him, raising feelings and causing a certain normal reaction to finding an attractive young woman curled up over you.

Harry tried to move, but Hermione curled up tighter on him and sighed. "Five more minutes, mum."

Harry heard a soft snicker from behind him and turned his head. Mary Granger was having a cup of tea on the couch and smiling at Harry. "You heard her, Harry. Five more minutes."

Harry stared at her as his face rapidly approached and passed Weasley red on its way to tomato red. "This isn't what it looks like, Mrs. Granger," Harry said in a tone that showed he expected Mrs. Granger to start doing unspecified but painful things to him any second..

Mary raised one eyebrow as Hermione shifted and draped an arm over Harry. "Really." She took a sip of her tea. "It looks like you were sleeping with Hermione. Isn't that what happened?"

"Yes," said Harry and then realized what he'd said. "I mean, I was sleeping with her, but I wasn't sleeping with her." He closed his eyes. "Somebody just shoot me now."

Hermione raised her head and looked at Harry sleepily. "Good morning, Harry." She yawned, and Harry noted in passing that she curled her tongue like a cat when she yawned. "Who are you talking to about us?"

"Your mother."

Hermione blinked, and woke up quickly, as she realized where she was, and that she was not holding her large body pillow, but Harry. She sat up and turned to look for her mother. "This isn't what it looks like, Mum."

Mrs. Granger looked at Hermione for a second, and then she and Harry looked at each other and started snickering. In just a minute, they were both laughing while Hermione stared at them. "What's so funny?"

"I said exactly the same thing when I woke," Harry said, "right down to the slightly panicked tone."

"Slightly?" inquired Mary with a smile. "I thought you were about to try and Apparate out of here."

"Harry built the wards here, Mum, he knows you can't Apparate in or out of the house," Hermione said automatically. She got up. "I have to check my email, and we have a Wizengamot meeting this evening. Are you going to make it, Harry?"

"I will be there, although I may be a bit late. I have a meeting of the DA tonight."

Hermione shook her head. "With the DADA curriculum you've created, I'm surprised anyone is still interested in the DA."

Harry smiled wryly. "I've only been the DADA teacher this year, and I think a lot of people are afraid the curse is still active, and that I won't be back next year. Plus, a lot of them were there at the battle, and seem to feel you can't have too much DADA training."

Harry stepped into the little Apparation shed and Apparated to Godric's Hollow. He showered and dressed, getting ready for another Monday at Hogwarts. Because of his duties in the Wizengamot, Harry did not live at the school.

Headmistress McGonagall had approved his living at Godric's Hollow as long as he showed up for his classes on time. He also had to spend one night every ten days patrolling the halls of Hogwarts, a night that the students were rapidly beginning to hate.

Somehow, Professor Potter could find any student in the halls at night. He didn't always report it, depending on why the students were out, but he was harder to avoid than Richard Gordan, who had replaced the now legendary Filch after his death during the Battle of Hogwarts.

Filch had come across three Death Eaters early in the battle, and instead of turning and running, like most Squibs would have, he'd attacked them with mop and bucket. The bucket had crushed one Death Eater's skull, and he'd run another though with the mop, but that Death Eater lived long enough to hit Filch with a Bone Breaker Curse, right in the skull.

The third Death Eater had died with Mrs. Norris. The cat had jumped on the man's head, sinking her claws deep in his eyes and hanging on as he spun wildly, until they both hit the railing of the walkway and fell five stories to the floor.

The portraits in that section of the hall claimed that Filch's last words as he attacked were a complaint about "Unruly students getting blood all over the floors."

Likeable or not, no one could deny his fanatic devotion to keeping the halls of Hogwarts clean, even against Death Eaters.

Harry arrived just outside the gates of Hogwarts in time to watch Hagrid open the gates. "Good morning, Hagrid," Harry greeted his oldest friend with a smile. "How is Daisy?"

Hagrid grinned at Harry, scratching a bandage on one leg. "He's feeling a wee bit feisty this week, Harry. He's a growing boy."

Harry shook his head. "You be careful with him, Hagrid, I'd miss you, and it would be impossible to replace you." Harry started toward the castle, shaking his head. Only Hagrid would try to raise a Wyvern. One of the dragon kin, a wyvern was truly a strange creature. It looked like a dragon, until just past the front legs and wings. From that point on, it was a snake with a barbed tail that was poisonous.

Added to all of that, it was a vicious meat eater, with no compunctions about what it ate. Harry shook his head and continued to the castle. Hagrid had been raising dangerous creatures for more than twenty years, and asking him to change now was like asking Peeves to be polite.

Harry walked into the Great Hall and was met by a group of students. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

One of the students, the current Gryffindor Seeker, raised a parchment and read it in a dramatic tone.

"_To: Professor Potter;_

_We, the Quidditch players of Hogwarts, respectfully request that you refrain from performing insane stunts during the pursuit of the Snitch, as it lays a standard on us that we, being of sound mind and body, and wanting to keep it that way, are quite unwilling to maintain._

_Cordially,_

_The Quidditch players of Hogwarts."_

Harry listened to the whole thing, hiding his smile. "Insane stunts? I've never done anything insane to catch a Snitch."

The Gryffindor Seeker rolled his eyes. He handed Harry the Daily Prophet. Harry opened the paper.

The front page was covered with three pictures. One showed Harry continually popping his arm out of place as he spun around the goals. The second one was of Harry's catch of the Snitch, and his tumble off his Broomstick. The last picture was of Hermione's nose diving catch of Harry.

_**Hermione Granger catches Harry Potter after Broomstick mishap!**_

_Harry Potter was appearing at the annual Chudley Cannons Charity Event Saturday when he participated in a Seeker challenge. In the course of winning the challenge, Mr. Potter fell from his Broomstick, an older but still impressive Firebolt._

_According to witnesses, Miss Granger Apparated to Mr. Potter's Broomstick and used it to catch the falling Seeker. Their journey ended a scant few centimetres above the Pitch. Miss Granger was somewhat shaken, but appeared to be fine at an interview thirty minutes later._

_(Story continued on page 5.)_

Harry looked up at the Quidditch players. "Normal play, for me." He grinned at them. "Of course, you don't have to play like that, unless you're fond of Madame Pomfrey's potions."

He handed the paper back to the players. "Look on the bright side. At least you don't have people trying to kill you when you're playing."

He sat down at the staff table and looked at the Headmistress. "Good morning, Professor McGonagall. How was the weekend?"

Headmistress McGonagall had not changed much from when Harry was her student, although without the inexperience of youth, Harry could see the faint amusement in her face. "It was boring, except for certain Gryffindors attempting to kill themselves."

Harry sighed. "Hermione was something, wasn't she?"

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry again. His eyes were lit up from within as he thought about what Hermione had done. The headmistress sighed. She had December of next year in the pool, and it wasn't going to take Hermione that long to figure out that something had changed in the way Harry saw her, and once she knew, she'd let Harry know how he felt, one way or another.

She wasn't going to win the pool. "She was indeed, Harry. Truly worthy of a Gryffindor."

Harry went to his first DADA class, which was with the Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth year students. He waited until they were all in the class room and sitting down before speaking. "Today, we will cover the Unforgivables."

The two houses murmured among themselves and looked at each other uneasily. "I will not be casting them, nor will I show you how to cast them. I will show you how to defend yourself and others against them."

Harry looked at the class. "Can anyone tell me what the most dangerous of the three is?"

A Gryffindor raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Crowley?"

"Avada Kedavra," he said.

Harry shook his head. "No, that's not it."

A Slytherin girl raised her hand. "The Imperious Curse."

Harry nodded. "Correct. The Killing Curse kills a single person, but I can order you to kill as many as I want if I put you under the Imperious, or to do almost anything I want you to do."

Harry went on the detail the various ways to fight or block the three Curses. The Killing Curse was the easiest to block, almost any solid object would do it. The others, well it was simply easier to dodge them. "Of course, the best way not to get hit with one of these spells is not to get into situations where people are casting them."

_**OoOoOoO Hermione, The Fish and Hook. OoOoOoO**_

Hermione was studying her books when a shadow fell across her table. She looked up at the tall man who stood there. "Miss Granger, I presume?"

"Yes, may I help you?" Hermione was sure she knew who this was, but she wanted to make sure.

"I am Dr. Graham Benoit, and I believe you wanted to see me about a group we have mutual membership in."

Hermione smiled. "You can talk freely here, Doctor. This place is owned by Harry Potter, and is warded against Muggles."

He raised an eyebrow. "How did I get in then? I am a Muggle,with a Wizard mother.."

Hermione smiled. "It was a difficult spell to work out, but basically, anyone that doesn't know what a Muggle is can't find this place."

The man sat down, thinking about that. "So, anyone that knows what Muggle means, can find this building, but anyone that doesn't know Wizard terms, is unable to come here."

Hermione nodded as Dr. Benoit looked around. There were about fifteen people in sight. She anticipated his question. "Most of the people you see here are Muggleborn Wizards that, for whatever reason, chose to live as Muggles. Most of the staff are in our group, and we watch out for each other."

"That much I knew. My mother ran just two days before the Death Eaters attacked our house. We lost the house, but all of us are alive because of your warning. Thank you."

Hermione blushed. "It was the least I could do." She marked her place and looked at Dr. Benoit. He was a tall man, standing at about two metres tall, with skin a couple of shades darker than Hermione's hair. He had a small nose, and his most dominant feature were his eyes. They were a dark brown, nearly black and he evaluated everything he saw with a direct gaze. He was watching Hermione now and she sighed.

"I found your name attached to the Morpheus Project. It is about cloning, and that's all I know. What I need to know, is can you create a clone or two, working from some cells?"

He looked at her. "Why don't you tell me about this project of yours, and then we'll discuss my possible involvement."

Hermione took out her notes and started giving the presentation again. Since she was talking to a man trained in Muggle ways, she was more detailed than she had been with Harry or Neville, as they wouldn't have understood the need for step by step details.

When she was done Dr. Benoit looked at her notes. "I see why you need a specialist, let's hold off on that for now. Are you certain you can do the rest of it with magic?"

Hermione shrugged. "The ageing part is actually the easiest, as ageing potions and charms are common and easy to do. The Dementor bit is a lot harder, and we will be exploring alternatives to that. Right now, the only part that I can't say can be done is the cloning. All the rest has been done at least once."

He asked her a few more questions and then sat back and thought for nearly fifteen minutes. Finally he sighed. "This is a worthy project, but while I have the know how to do it, I can't use any official supplies or labs, so we'd have to cobble something together."

Hermione frowned and got out some fresh paper. "Tell me what you need, and we'll see how much we can magic up, and how much we have to buy."

They discuss the needs for a few minutes. Hermione made a list of the things they could not create with magic, mostly electronic devices and computers and frowned at it. "This is the bare minimum that you will need, correct?"

Dr. Benoit nodded and Hermione frowned again. "What are the chances of getting two viable foetuses the first time with this set up?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I doubt they are very high. I've always had access to the very best equipment in the government, and I'll have to learn to use this stuff before I even try."

Hermione nodded. "I thought so, since most of this stuff is commercially available. Now, if you weren't worried about money at all, what would you get, and if we supplied the money, can you get it without attracting too much attention?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Somebody on your side must have deep pockets for you to even be considering that." Dr. Benoit thought about it and made a similar list, with slightly different items . "Using this equipment, which I can get surplus without raising any suspicions at all, I would estimate a successful first time attempt at seventy four percent."

Graham looked at Hermione curiously. "Why are you even looking at the rest of the it? The base set will work for a one time set up, and we can start over as many times as needed for two viable foetuses"

Hermione sighed. "It might work once, but if this works, there are more people that can be helped, in both the Muggle and Wizard world, as long as we're careful to disguise the magic in one world and the science in the other." She shrugged. "For that, I would prefer the better set up."

Dr. Benoit nodded. "I see. You're thinking ahead then."

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Auror Headquarters. OoOoOoO**_

Mike Bradley looked up as Harry walked into his office. "I thought I might being seeing you again." He frowned. "Are you certain you want to see him?"

Harry sighed and sat down. "What I'm about to tell you is top secret for now, and I will be highly displeased if word gets out, as you'll be only the third person to know about it, except for the ones involved." Harry stared at the man until he shifted uncomfortably.

Harry told him what they were trying to do and what they wanted from Raul, if they could get it from him. "So, as I told you last time I was here, while I would rather not know what he can teach us, I don't really have a choice."

Mike Bradley stared into space for a long minute. "I was one of the Aurors that found the Longbottoms, you know. I had just started with the Aurors, and that was my first Death Eater scene, and my last." He shivered. "For that part of the war, anyway. I saw enough after his return to turn my stomach near permanently."

He frowned. "So, you and Miss Granger will be going out there to interrogate the bastard?"

Harry blinked as the Auror swore. "He is a right bastard, Mr. Potter. I've pulled his file the last couple of days and read it." He passed a folder to Harry. "Look for yourself."

Harry looked over the scanty information they had on Raul Yonkers. Nationality, bloodlines, schooling, all of that was unknown. He'd never been noticed until he showed up in Grindelwald's forces, already high in his council. He'd shown an knack for making people talk, using illusions planted in their mind to torment them with their darkest fears. It was his boast that he didn't need physical pain, that his victims could still walk, but they would babble everything they knew to anyone that asked.

Other than that, all anyone knew was that he was brilliant, twisted and with a darkness in him that made almost everyone around him nervous. Harry frowned. "What is this darkness around him?"

The Auror shook his head. "Nobody knows, really, but it makes a person uncomfortable to be around him very long, as if he was bathed in evil, and it was crawling over you."

Harry nodded. "Voldemort had that feel, and I know a place that does as well. It's a vivid description, but very fitting." Harry sighed. "However, he has knowledge, or had it, and we need it. Miss Granger and I will be going out as soon as we can get permission. How do we do that?"

Auror Bradley grinned. "Tis a terrible hard job. You need to get a member of the Wizengamot to sign off on your request."

Harry blinked and grinned back. Taking a piece of parchment out he wrote "Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Harry Potter have permission to interview Raul Yonkers in Azkaban." He signed it with a flourish and handed it to Mike Bradley who read it carefully.

"Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Potter. We can take you out there the day after tomorrow, with the regular supply run. Will that work for you?"

_**OoOoOoO Harry and Hermione, after the Wizengamot meeting. OoOoOoO**_

Harry caught up with Hermione as they left the chamber after the meeting. "Hermione, what are you doing tonight?"

Hermione shrugged. "I was going to go home and work on the Ageing Potions."

Harry looked around and lowered his voice slightly. "Are you going to channel Lavender again, if I suggest an alternative?"

Hermione frowned at him. "That depends on what the other choice is. I'm not meeting the Queen in these robes."

Harry sighed. "Let's step over here for a minute." Harry led the way to a small alcove. He faced Hermione and started speaking quickly. "It has occurred to me that I have said something about you that is such a barking mad comment that even the twins think I'm doomed, and they suggested I do something that proves to you that I do in fact notice you're a woman, but almost all of their suggestions would get me hexed, I think, so in my desire to make it right with you, and adding my not wanting to be hexed, I have gotten Mr. Fickleknocker to agree to meet you tonight and autograph his latest book, 'The Finer Points of Greater Rune Making'."

Hermione deciphered the stream of words and stared at Harry. "I'm not sure what is more impressive, that you got Mr. Fickleknocker to see us, or that you said all of that in one sentence."

Harry blushed. "Too many speeches in the Wizengamot, I think. I've learned to talk too much, like when I was talking to your father."

Hermione looked at Harry for a minute. "Let's go meet Mr. Fickleknocker, and you can tell me what the twins suggested, that you think would have gotten you hexed."

Harry blushed even darker than he had a minute earlier. "I'm not even going to tell you most of it. The simplest thing they suggested was that I just snog you for a minimum of a full minute."

Hermione was very glad to be walking in front of Harry as that point, so Harry couldn't see the flush that spread across her face, or the sappy smile at the thought of Harry snogging her for any amount of time. "I wouldn't hex you for that, Harry. I might wonder who was possessing you, because you would never do anything like that of your own free will."

Harry had a sudden mental image of Hermione's lips, as they had been with the touch of lipstick she'd worn to the awards dinner, and the thought crossed his mind that they had looked quite kissable. He blushed, glad that Hermione couldn't read his mind. Harry frowned as he thought about the last few days. He'd been noticing Hermione's looks a great deal recently. What was that all about?

Harry considered it absently as they Apparated to the restaurant where they were going to meet the greatest living expert on Runes and their crafting. He finally decided that it was merely his hormones. After all, people simply had certain urges, urges that he'd been suppressing since Ginny died. That thought made him frown. He thought about Ginny for nearly the entire meeting with Mr. Fickleknocker, and he was distress to realize that he could no longer recall every freckle or expression she'd ever had.

Harry was silent as they left, and Hermione caught on to his mood quickly, once she left the restaurant. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry sighed. "Nothing, I think, or everything."

Hermione frowned at the non answer and studied Harry for a minute. "Ginny. This has something to do with Ginny."

Harry was no longer surprised that Hermione could read him like a book. She was Hermione after all, and he'd yet to find anything she couldn't do, or figure out. "I can't remember all her freckles any more."

Hermione considered the seemingly insignificant answer, and thought about it. "You mean," she said gently, "that you're afraid you're forgetting her."

Harry nodded slowly. "Exactly. How long will it be before she'd just another victim of the war?"

"Harry, is Sirius just another victim to you?"

Harry glanced at Hermione. "Of course not, he's Sirius." He thought about what he'd just said. "Ginny will not be just another victim, you mean, because she was so much more to me."

Hermione didn't say anything as they reached an Apparation point and Apparated to her house. Harry always took her back to her house, even when he didn't come inside, like tonight. "Harry, time will heal any would that you survive. Even wounds of the heart. You should know that after Sirius. It may take some time, but they all heal."

Harry just nodded. Hermione leaned forward and hugged, kissing him softly on the cheek. Harry hugged her back and disappeared with a muted crack.

_**OoOoOoO Harry and Hermione, Azkaban. OoOoOoO**_

Harry stared at the island ahead, his face sliding into that intent look that meant he was preparing for something. Hermione watched him with a frown . "Harry, you don't have to come with me."

Harry barely glanced at her. "You're insane if you think I'd let you come here without me," he said flatly.

Hermione sighed and touched his arm. "The war is over, Harry. The Dementors obey the Ministry again."

"Until the next time someone finds a way to convince them to turn." Harry turned to the guard . "How long to clear the new wards?"

"About five minutes, Mr. Potter. May I add, Thank you for the wards. I really didn't like working here before you paid Gringotts to update them."

Harry waved him off. "I couldn't get the Wizengamot to do anything then, so I did it."

"We know that, Mr. Potter, and all of us appreciate what you did for us."

Harry nodded , his attention on the wards they were passing through. The three of them could feel the wards, like a pressure on the skin, an invisible curtain that resisted their entry, even though they were allowed to come here.

When Harry had gone to the Goblins to rebuild the wards, he'd specified just two things. One, they had to prevent any unauthorized entry or exit of any magical creature, in any shape. That included Dementors, Wizards, Animagi, Goblins, Centaurs, House Elves and Werewolves, just to names a few. No creature that could be protected against could enter or leave Azkaban without the proper authorization.

Harry had paid for three fold wards, such as the goblins had protecting the older vaults. The first layer of wards was designed to take time to break, while sending alarms to the Ministry building, Auror headquarters and the Wizengamot chamber.

The second set of wards were stronger still, and fought back with non lethal charms, hexes and Transfigurations. These were also designed to take time and power to break.

The last layer of the wards were deadly. They were not designed to be broken at all, and breaking them would cause a flare of magic that would kill anyone whose magic was touching the wards at that time. They also used lethal curses while the attacker was trying to break them, using the attacker's own magic as an aiming point to target explosive hexes, cutting curses and other damaging spells on the area of the attackers.

They passed through the wards and had their first view of the island, just two hundred meters in front of them. That had been the second thing Harry had asked for. Azkaban Prison simply could not be detected by any means from outside the wards. That prevented any would be Dark Lords from finding the island and mounting an assault to gain a few followers.

Azkaban Island was a grim place, even to look at. Made of a natural black rock that had the shiny look of obsidian, it was a sheer mass of smooth sides, enhanced with magic to be as slick as glass and impossible to climb up or down.

Since Voldemort's forces had decimated the first prison, the new one was built entirely underground, with a single entrance and one exit. Attempting to use the entrance as an exit, or the exit as an entrance would activate Azkaban's defences For that reason, the entrance couldn't be seen from the outside, unless you had proper permission to be here. The exit, however, was quite easy to see from outside. It was exactly the opposite inside the prison, where the entrance was plain and the exit hidden.

The small boat that brought the week's mail and supplies to the island pulled up to the jetty and the four Aurors that were waiting watched them closely.

The Auror that had escorted Harry and Hermione to the prison looked at the closest two. "Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, to see a prisoner."

The one Auror looked at them and nodded. "Papers, please."

Harry handed over the papers that Auror Bradley had given him and the guard examined them closely. He looked up finally. "Everything appears to be in order. Mr. Potter, if you would prove your identity, please?"

Harry sighed and moved his bangs so his scar was plainly visible. The guard nodded. That was possibly the single most famous mark in the wizard world, and everyone would know it at a glance. He looked at Hermione. "Miss Granger, if you would."

Hermione frowned and then grinned. She pulled her wand holding it up in the air as the Aurors pulled theirs and pointed them at her. "I don't have any way to prove who I am, other than by casting a spell."

Harry spoke up. "I will vouch for her."

The guards looked at each other and the one with the papers nodded. "Cast your spell, Ma'am."

Hermione frowned as she concentrated. Her wand moved in five separate and distinct movements, blended together so that it appeared to be a single movement. At the same time, she was chanting something under her breath. Harry recognized the spell as she began casting and winced. He closed his eyes, waiting.

When Hermione finished her spell, there was a flash of light, that blinded everyone that was watching her for a few seconds. They blinked their eyes trying to clear the spots away, and when they could see again, the world had gone away.

They were standing in a mist, that swirled around them, ceaselessly roiling and moving. The only thing in sight were the people that had been on the jetty. Azkaban, the jetty and the boat were gone, but more than that, the rest of the world was gone as well.

Hermione took a deep breath, looking at the Aurors. "Am I who I say I am?"

The Auror with the papers looked around. "Unless you taught that spell to someone else, I will accept that you have to be Hermione Granger." He looked around again. "Is this really what time looks like, when you step outside of it?"

Before Hermione could say anything, the spell ended and they were back on the jetty, in the same places they had been before Hermione cast her spell. "It is the way we see it. Some people that have gone into it in Animagi shapes, and other races report different experiences. I am still compiling data on it."

The Auror shivered. "Stepping out of time sounds bloody dangerous, and I hope if you ever need to come here again, you will have another way of proving your identity."

Hermione shrugged. "It was created in a dangerous time, and it was the solution we needed at the time. So far, there have been no ill effects suffered from going there."

Hermione and Harry followed the Auror up the winding path to a flat area, almost a cave in the side of the cliff. The Auror pulled his wand and waved it at the face of the wall. A door appeared and the Auror waved them inside. "I have to stay outside. You'll be taken to the prisoner."

Harry led Hermione down the short hall to the next door, which opened as they approached. "We're bringing the prisoner up now."

The two friends were escorted to a room with a single table and four chairs. Two Aurors took up stations behind Harry and Hermione. A few minutes later, the door on the other side of the room opened and two Aurors came in with a man dressed in Azkaban garb, a simple black robe.

Harry knew that the man across from them was in his seventies, not that old for a Wizard. The man looked older than Professor Dumbledore had ever looked, with deep lines in his face and wrinkles on top of wrinkles. His hands shook nearly continuously as he sat down across from them. The two Aurors went to the corners, watching the three of them impassively.

Raul Yonkers looked at the two of them, focussing first on Harry and then looking at Hermione. "You're Harry Potter. Even here, the guards tell stories about you." The older man's voice was quiet, rusty with disuse, and completely without emotion. He spoke as if he had no feelings about Harry in any way. "That would make this young lady Hermione Granger, commonly called the brightest witch of her time."

Harry looked at Hermione. She was examining Yonkers with a calm look. "Seeing as how I am the only female linked with Harry on a regular basis, that didn't take much deduction. Show me some of that intellect you supposedly have, or had, if Azkaban hasn't scrambled your wits."

Raul Yonkers glared at her for a second. He took a deep breath and examined them again. "You went to a lot of trouble to see me. Neither of you, nor your kin fought against me in the Great War, so it is not revenge or vengeance that drives you. You're not here for a social visit with a man who hasn't heard anything of importance in fifty years. That means you either want to know something about my former boss or you want one of my spells. I would say you want one of my spells, since Miss Granger might come here in search of knowledge, but she wouldn't need Mr. Potter.

He paused for a minute and thought. "I see the Black family ring on Mr. Potter's hand, so he has access to two of the four spells I created and somehow I don't think you two want to interrogate anyone by making their worst fears a reality for them, so I would say you two want my soul trapping spell for some project of Miss Granger's."

He looked at them with a slightly mocking smile."How close am I?"

Harry nodded. "Very close, and the project is hers, but you'll be teaching me the spell."

Raul Yonkers smiled again, a savage smile. "Maybe I will, if we can come to terms. Before I teach anyone that spell, I want your word, Mr. Potter, that after you know it, you will either kill me yourself or have me Kissed."

_**OoOoOoO The Author, Here and Now. OoOoOoO**_

_I was stupid. I hate to admit it, but I made a huge mistake. I accepted an assistant manager position at the book store where I work. Hey, it was a salary, more responsibility, more money. A good thing, right?_

_Wrong. Seventy four hours a week cut into school time, writing time, and time with Greeneyes. I had no time for anything except that blasted job._

_As of two days ago, I am a simple cashier again, and here is the next chapter of MM&WS... with SoG coming as soon as I can get it out of my head and in the computer, followed by BoB._

_Raven_


	5. Magic and Medicine

_Raul Yonkers has the spell they need, but his price is going to be high Let's find out why he wants to die._

_Some of you may note that I have changed the name of this story at least twice. First it was "Harry, Hermione and A New Way of Looking at Things", which was far too long for me and it became "Muggleborn Magic and Wizard Science", but that implies, to me at least, that ordinary Muggles had nothing to do with anything in the story, and that simply isn't true. To the best of my knowledge, no Wizards, Muggleborn or Pureblood were used in the invention of the cloning process. Although, having done a bit of study on it for this story, I will agree with Neville. Cloning sounds more like magic than anything Hogwarts ever taught._

_**Muggle Magic & Wizard Science.**_

_**Chapter Five**_

_**Magic and Medicine.**_

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Hermione and Raul Yonkers, Azkaban Prison. OoOoOoO**_

Harry and Hermione stared at Raul Yonkers. The man had just asked Harry to kill him or have him Kissed by a Dementor after he taught them the spell they wanted to know.

Harry controlled his urge to simply leave and studied the man sitting in front of him."Why don't you tell me why you want to die so badly, and we'll talk about it."

The four Aurors in the corners of the room looked at each other. They should stop this conversation right now, but that was Harry Potter, and they didn't really want to tell the man who had killed Voldemort in single combat that he had to leave, especially if he didn't want to leave.

The Auror in charge looked at the three conversing and and made a hand sign that meant wait. Harry Potter hadn't promised anything yet, so he'd wait and see what was going to happen. Not that he wanted to fight with the man that had paid out of his own pocket to have Azkaban made twice as secure as it had been.

Yonkers looked at them. "I assume you've done your homework, and know that the Dementors no longer come around me."

Harry had told Hermione what he'd learned about Raul Yonkers and they both nodded. "I am seventy nine years old. I've been in this place for fifty five years, since 1945. Without the effects of the Dementors, I will live out my lifespan here. Since Wizards regularly live to be one hundred and twenty, that is another forty years."

Harry shrugged. "You should have thought about that before you joined your master and did the things you did."

Raul looked at him. "I did consider them, and I thought we would win or I would not have joined him. Grindelwald had the best plans I'd ever seen, and had it not been for Albus Dumbledore, we would have won." Raul's eyes were far away as he remembered those days. He shook that off and looked at Harry. "That's neither here nor there, though. The point is that without the Dementor's draining effects, I may be here another forty years or more and that is not good, for me or anyone else."

"Considering the things you did, I'd say it's very good for everyone that isn't in here," Hermione said.

Raul smiled thinly. "That's simply because I know a few things you don't. It took me a long time to figure out how to do things, but I have everything I need to escape here, except the location of the exit." He waved a hand, chains dangling from it, at the Aurors who were suddenly tense. "Since I haven't forgotten how to interrogate people, the way I used to, I think it is safe to assume that I could find that out fairly easily."

Harry looked at him. "Even if you knew where the exit was, you're still not allowed to leave, and I doubt you could do anything about the wards."

Raul nodded. "Not yet, I can't, but I figured out how to drop the last set. These are a bit better, but anything built can be destroyed, and I have nothing to do but think about it." He shrugged. "It won't even take as long this time since I don't have to learn the other skills I need."

Harry frowned. "So why didn't you simply escape?"

Raul sighed. "I am a sociopathic psychopath. That is why the Dementors avoid me. I have no emotions, good or bad for them to feed on, because I simply don't care. If I escape, where will I go? What will I do? My assets were taken when I was thrown in here, and no one is going to shelter me, so I will have to go back to what I know. I could do that, but there would have to be another person there, someone to lead, because I don't lead."

He sighed again. "I would like to be free, but the work is too much for me. I am out of touch with almost everything that has gone on in the last fifty years. I would end up going on a killing spree, simply because I wouldn't know what else to do."

Raul looked infinitely old then and weary. "I could do that, and it wouldn't matter to me, but why? So I could spend a few years being hunted, never able to stop and do my research? That's why I joined Grindelwald, you know. He promised to fund all my research, no matter what I wanted to study." He looked wistful for a minute. "I would love to get in a lab for a few days, just to test a few theories I've come up with in the last fifty years."

Hermione looked at Yonkers with more interest. "What kind of theories?"

Raul glanced at her, and then looked again. "I don't think even you want to know about some of them but I think I've found a way to amplify a point spell to an area effect, with a crystal, if you properly facet it."

Hermione frowned, thinking about what he said. "But wouldn't that merely cause multiple refractions, and loss of accuracy?"

Harry sat there and listened to the two of them for the next twenty minutes. They were still speaking English, but it might as well have been Swahili for all he understood. Looking at the Aurors, he could tell that they were as confused as he was. Harry got up, and the two talking didn't even notice. He crossed to stand next to the Auror in charge of this team. "Do you understand a word of this?" Harry asked him quietly.

The Auror listened for a second. "Miss Granger just said 'the', and that was the only word I caught that I understand. Those two are on a whole other level, aren't they?"

Harry nodded slowly. "That means that he could be serious, about knowing how to escape everything but the wards."

The two of them listened to the two at the table for a minute. Hermione was drawing a diagram under Raul's direction, and they still continued their conversation. The Auror sighed. "We simply can't add any more security to him. He has an Auror watching him every hour of the day, no matter what he's doing, four locks on his door, all enchanted to be magic proof, and requiring keys. Then, his cell is the only one at the end of a twenty meter corridor with two more Aurors at the end. You tell me, Mr. Potter, what else could we do?"

Harry considered it. "I assume he wears the chains all the time, as well?"

The Auror shook his head. "He used to, and then he tried to hang himself with them once, strangle himself once, and kill an Auror bringing him dinner once. Now the chains stay outside the cell."

Harry frowned, looking at Raul and remembering a cupboard under some stairs. He knew what it was like to be locked up, but only for a couple of months at most. This man had been locked up for longer than Harry had been alive. Voldemort had still been Tom Riddle, the Head Boy at Hogwarts the year this man had last been free.

"Don't pity him, Mr. Potter. He did things to people that still cause them to wake up screaming in the night." The Auror looked at Raul. "Those that survived, anyway."

Harry looked at the Auror. "So did I, but I just happened to be on the winning side."

The Auror shook his head. "Not like he did, Mr. Potter." The Auror shivered. "Trust me, I know you could never have done anything like the things in his file. All of us who stand guard over him have to read his complete file before we start. For sheer inventive evil, that man can make Voldemort look innocent."

Harry looked at Raul again. He was gesturing animatedly while talking rapidly to Hermione, who was listening avidly and making notes on a parchment. "Why does he seem so harmless now?" Harry asked.

"He's a sociopath. He has no moral compass of his own, and assumes the characteristics of the people he's interacting with. Until he gets bored, when he may wander off or he may kill them, just for something to do." The Auror looked at the two of them. "Miss Granger is highly intelligent, as is Yonkers. He'll talk to her until she bores him, and then he'll find a way to relieve that boredom."

Harry's eyes burned for a second. "If he tries that with Hermione, he'll regret it."

The Auror shivered as he watched Harry. Raul Yonkers wasn't the only dangerous person in this room.

Hermione looked up just then. "Harry, come here please."

Harry nodded to the Auror and walked over to sit next to Hermione. "Harry, Raul is going to teach you the spell we need. You don't have to kill him afterwards."

Harry looked at the two of them. "What is the deal?" he asked bluntly, certain that they had made an agreement.

Hermione shrugged. "He teaches you the spell, and I'm going to come here once a week and we'll talk."

Harry frowned. "For how long?"

Hermione shrugged again. "He's got a hundred ideas he has come up with in the last fifty years and no way to test them out. I will take those ideas and test them, if they are acceptable to me. If they work, they get spread around, with his name on them."

Harry shook his head. "With your reputation, Mr. Yonkers, it would be better to put Hermione's name on them."

Raul nodded. "I know, but this is my try for immortality. In a hundred years, I'll be a footnote in history, unless we can make these spells do what we think they can do." He smiled faintly. "It's a much harder way to become immortal than killing people. It might even hold my interest for the next forty years."

Harry frowned and looked at Hermione. "Would you ask the Aurors to look elsewhere for a minute, while I get the spell? I don't think we need to spread it any wider than we have to."

Hermione nodded and went to the Auror Harry had been talking to. They talked for a second and the Auror looked at Harry before passing his people a hand sign. The four of them filed out the door, and Harry looked at Hermione. She frowned and Harry took on a slightly pleading look.

Hermione frowned and shook her finger at Harry, but left with the Aurors. Raul Yonkers watched the entire episode with a smile. Harry turned back to him, and looked at the old man. "Let's get this over with."

Raul nodded and spent the next ten minutes teaching Harry the wand movements and incantation to the spell. When Harry could do it to Raul's satisfaction Raul looked at Harry. "I don't have to tell you this, but I am, because she will be upset if something happens to you while you cast my spell. Try it on an animal first, Mr. Potter. Casting this spell has always done something to me. I never taught it to anyone else, except Grindelwald, and he didn't tell me anything about what happened when he used it. It makes you feel strange, and it's a feeling that some people might try to get more of. A rush of power, as if you were Merlin, or God."

Harry nodded slowly. "I will remember your warning." He looked around and then looked at Yonkers. "I want you to remember something. If you hurt Hermione, I will make you live as long as I do, with a spell I found in the Black library, and I will make sure that you stay here with no human contact until the day you die. No one to talk to, no news of any kind, nothing. Do we understand each other?"

Raul Yonkers looked at Harry and nodded. "I will not hurt the lady you love."

Harry started to say something, but Hermione and the four Aurors came back in then, and Harry closed his mouth.

Raul and Hermione talked for a few minutes more, setting up times for her to return while Harry sat there with an abstracted look on his face.

When Hermione and Raul were done, Harry followed Hermione out of the prison and to the ferry. On the ferry, Hermione looked at Harry. "Tell me about the spell, Harry."

Harry looked at Hermione and frowned. "It's fairly simple, but let me experiment on an animal or two first. Yonkers warned about the spell. It gives him a feeling like he's god when he uses it, and he thinks it might be addicting."

Hermione frowned as well. "That would not be good."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that understatement, and helped Hermione out of the ferry as they docked. "What are you going to do until the Wizengamot meeting tonight?"

Hermione looked at her notes. "I need a dome shaped crystal with a very specific faceting to fit over the end of my wand, with some type of thing to hold it there, so I'm going to Gertrude's Gems and Crystals first, and then I'm going to Ollivander's, to see if he can make something to hold it to my wand. After that, I want to do a bit of research into spells and crystals."

Harry nodded. "I want to think some about what Yonkers told me," he said. "I'll see you at the meeting, OK?"

Hermione nodded, still looking at her notes. "Bye Harry," she said and Harry smiled. He waved a hand in front of her notes and Hermione looked up.

"Please remember to take your eyes off your notes before you try to Apparate. I would hate to have to visit you in St. Mungo's again." Harry Apparated away before the blush and frown on Hermione's face could become a retort. Only Ron and Harry could get away with reminding Hermione that she'd once tried to Apparate while reading, and the results had not been good.

_**OoOoOoO Neville, Longbottom Estate. OoOoOoO**_

Neville read through Hermione's notes again, spending almost as much time in the dictionary as he did reading the notes. The more he read, the more he respected the Witch that had thought this up. The combination of Wizard magic with Muggle science was brilliant. As least, he amended that thought, it would be if it worked.

Neville sighed. He knew that Hermione and Harry were at Azkaban, hoping to get a spell from Raul Yonkers that would make the Dementor unneeded. He really hoped they could do it.

Neville smiled to himself. Harry was like a force of nature. When he set his mind on something, it happened. With Hermione backing him, this project would happen. The only thing they didn't know was what the outcome would be. One chance in five. Neville pushed the thought of his parents to the back of his head and began writing a briefing for Harry.

Harry was smart, and driven in many ways, but he had one serious flaw in the Wizengamot. Harry simply didn't understand the way the old money families thought. The idea of money and power being more important than people was as foreign to Harry's way of thinking as science was to Pureblood Wizards. Since he didn't understand those people or the way they thought, Neville had taken to writing notes for Harry, explaining why they voted or argued the way they did.

Neville had a moment of very real humour over that, since Harry, as the head of the Potter family and the sole remaining heir of the Black family, was one of those Pureblood Wizards, and richer than most of them. If anyone should be concerned with maintaining the status quo, it should be Harry.

The way Harry had been raised though, and his very nature made it impossible for Harry to conceive of money as anything important. Neville took a minute to look around him. He'd been raised to money and power, as the heir of the Longbottom fortune, and until Luna had come in to his life, he'd never really thought about how much he had.

It took Luna to show him some of the simpler pleasures in life, that didn't cost anything or have some type of status attached to them. Now that she had, he was finding that two people in love could find just as much enjoyment in walking along a creek as they could in Xanadu, the Wizard resort.

Neville finished the briefing notes for Harry and sat back. He addressed the notes and set them aside to give to an owl. His eyes fell on the notes Hermione had given him and he frowned as he heard the refrain in the back of his head again. One chance in five.

Neville pulled his attention from the notes and left, taking the letter for Harry to the owlery. Harry and Hermione had beaten worse odds, many times during the war, and they would do it again.

They had to.

_**OoOoOoO Healer Tanya Robears, St. Mungo's Long Term Care Ward. OoOoOoO**_

Tanya read the parchment again, not sure she'd read it right the first time. The parchment was a simple policy letter, of the type sent to everyone, every time there was anything the Board of Directors wanted to tell the entire staff.

_To: All healers;_

_From: Senior Administrator Victoria Newberry._

_Greetings,_

_Recently, there have been several changes in the St. Mungo's Board of Directors. The following Directors have resigned from the board for various personal reasons:_

_Winchester, Marilyn._

_Parkinson, Monroe._

_Zabini, Uhura._

_In their place, three new Directors have been asked to join the Board. They have accepted, and as of the first of the month, the following people are Directors:_

_Longbottom, Augusta._

_Weasley, Molly._

_Pomfrey, Poppy._

_The Hospital welcomes the new members._

_In accordance with the directives of the newly remade board, the following individual is retired, with honours for his long service and dedication to the hospital:_

_Senior Healer Zachary Agonia, Long Term Care Ward._

_The Board and the staff of the Hospital wish him all the best._

_Replacing Senior Healer Agonia will be Healer Tanya Robears, currently the senior healer in the LTC Ward. The Board and the staff wish her all the best in her new position._

_Policy change 14-25.b_

_It has come to the Board's attention that some unconventional ideas have been ignored or denied without a proper field test. Any treatment that is brought through the proper channels must be given a trial, using volunteers if possible._

_The length and severity of the trial is dependant on the success and danger of the treatment in question. Any questions regarding this policy change should be directed to Madame Pomfrey._

_Sincerely,_

_Senior Administrator Victoria Newberry._

Tanya blinked. She'd not even been asked if she wanted the position, but she had a sneaking suspicion it would not have mattered if she did or did not.

The three directors that had 'resigned' were the oldest of the directors, and the ones that absolutely refused to hear about anything that didn't have a magical touch, preferably, with a Pureblood name attached to it.

The three new directors, on the other hand, were all very friendly with Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. She shook her head. Mr. Longbottom had not been joking when he said he had some big wands in his corner.

She frowned as she continued to think about the changes. Promotion or no, she was not going to let Mr. Longbottom take foolish risks with his parents. Whatever scheme they had in mind had better pass her tests first, or she'd have more than a few things to say to him.

In the meantime, she had a great deal of work to do. There were a dozen changes she wanted to make to the Ward, that had their basis in Muggle things and had been turned down just for that reason. Tanya went to her new office, noting absently that the name on the door had already been changed and set to work.

_**OoOoOoO Flashback, Neville and Augusta Longbottom, Three days earlier. OoOoOoO**_

Augusta knew that something was up as soon as Neville entered her sitting room. His face gave him away. He sat down and took a deep breath. "I have to talk to you about something that will affect us both. I have decided to do it, but I thought you should know about this, since it concerns your son."

Augusta Longbottom looked sharply at Neville. "Why don't you tell me what this is all about first, and then we'll see if this requires another family discussion."

Neville looked at her. "Hermione thinks we can heal them, using Muggle science and magic."

Augusta's first thought on hearing the word 'Muggle' was to refuse to have anything to do with this foolishness. She hesitated, seeing the look in Neville's eyes. He knew what she was thinking and he was disappointed in her for even thinking it.

Augusta had developed a great deal more respect for Neville since the fight they'd had over Luna. The boy, no, the _man_ had held his own and given as good as he'd gotten. Witness what it had done to the house. She took a breath and looked at him calmly. "Go on," she said, and her voice was not as calm as her face.

Neville pulled the notes Hermione had given him from his robes. "I am not going to pretend to understand everything in those notes. Hermione is far more intelligent than I am, and I have not had the time to study them fully, but this is the basic idea."

Neville told his grandmother everything that Harry and Hermione had told him, as well as his visit with Healer Robears. He finished with her warning about the hospital's Board of Directors.

Augusta listened to him and frowned. "This Muggle thing, this 'cloning'. How does it work?"

Neville shrugged. "I don't understand that well at all, and I have no way to research Muggle things, other than asking Hermione. According to her, the Muggle doctor, who is a type of Healer, will take a few 'cells' from both of my parents and grow new bodies in a lab."

Neville smiled for a second. "I told Hermione that cloning sounds more like magic than anything I learned at Hogwarts, and it still does. She says it is an accepted practice in the Muggle world though." Neville thought for a minute. "From there, it becomes easier to understand. The bodies will develop, just as a baby in the womb does, but before it has a personality of its own, Hermione is going to stop the growth and age the bodies to about twenty five, using ageing potions and spells."

Augusta nodded, "That part, I understood."

Neville walked her through the Dementor part. "Harry can do it, I assume you remember the section in Hermione's book that described how Harry drove away a hundred Dementors and stopped one of them from Kissing Sirius Black in Harry's third year." Neville frowned. "They are also exploring another option, but that is not certain yet."

Augusta thought about it. The idea sounded insane, but Harry Potter had been involved in things that sounded sounded insane since his first year at Hogwarts and he had always won.

Augusta closed her eyes as a wave of hope and fear washed over her. She could get her son back, and the woman that had very nearly been the daughter she never had.

She could also lose them forever.

The two Longbottoms sat in silence for a long time. "You never knew your parents, and that has been hard on you." Augusta said finally, in a low tone. She looked at Neville. "I did know them, and love them. In many ways, it has been much harder on me, to watch them waste away, after knowing what they were, before the Lestranges tortured them."

She took a deep breath. "I agree with your decision. Better to try and lose them, in the worst case, than to wonder if we could have had them back." She frowned. "It sounds as if you could have some problems at St. Mungo's."

Neville nodded. "Healer Robears is a good sort, willing to at least consider anything that might help her patients, but the Board of Directors controls the hospital, including the appointing of section bosses, and they are less than enamoured of anything not magical."

Augusta frowned, thinking about the problem. "I think I know just what we're going to do." She smiled suddenly, making Neville blink. He could count the number of times he'd seen her smile on his fingers. "Who's the best Healer with any status you know?"

Neville shrugged. "The only healers I know at all are Miss Robears and Madame Pomfrey."

Augusta nodded. "Madame Pomfrey would be perfect. She's old enough to have respect, and as Hogwarts' healer, she has a reputation. Perfect." She frowned. "The board is made up of five members though, we need one more person to be sure that we can swing any voting our way."

Neville considered that. After two years in the Wizengamot, he was used to political manoeuvring, although he'd never used it outside of the Wizengamot. "What about Mrs. Weasley? She's from an old family, the Prewitts, and with the changes in the Weasley fortunes since the end of the war, she's the matriarch of a very powerful family, with ties to Harry and several other families."

Augusta nodded. "Very good, Neville. You go on about your business. If I need you, I'll let you know, but this seems fairly easy. We'll remove the most annoying members of the board and put our own people in their place."

Neville blinked, and looked at his grandmother with a new respect. "You make it sound so easy."

Augusta smiled again. "In the Wizengamot, you have brought pressure to bear, to make people do what you want, correct?" Neville nodded and Augusta's smile almost became a smirk. "There are many types of pressure, Neville, and several old ladies with lots of money to donate and family lines behind them are a powerful force."

Neville slowly began to smile. "Are you talking about your Ladies' Circle? The ones that meet here every week?"

Augusta nodded. "Between us, we have connections to almost every family, even the ones no one wants to admit knowing any more, and since we've all donated large sums to the hospital at times, I can safely say we will be heard."

Neville got up and embraced his grandmother, a rare showing of affection. "Have fun, and do let me know if I can help you in any way. Who knows? I may learn something watching you take the board apart."

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Harry's Hideaway. OoOoOoO**_

Harry sat in the chair in his living room and stared at the wall moodily. Raul Yonkers had called Hermione the "woman you love", and Harry had been about to protest that when several memories crossed his mind's eye.

Hermione, coming down the stairs in the new robes he'd had made for her.

Harry thinking that her lips had looked very kissable.

The wonderful dinner they'd shared.

Waking up with her, twice.

Hermione's face, as she rescued him after his fall at the Charity event.

All the times over the last couple of weeks that he'd thought about her, or the way she looked.

Carrying Hermione to her bed, and the way she snuggled up in his arms, and how good it had felt.

The way she'd helped him get through Halloween night, showing him that it didn't always have to be doom and gloom.

Harry sighed, thinking about it all and not coming to any conclusions, except that he was seriously confused. He hadn't felt this way about a woman since Ginny.

Harry stopped at that, waiting for the pain to begin again, as it had for more than two years now. He still felt pain at the thought of his first love, but it was no longer the sharp biting pain it had been. He thought about the last two years and realized that if he was honest, with himself at least, it had been easing slowly for some time.

He sighed, torn between feelings for a woman two years dead and one still living. Harry thought about it, and finally made his decision.

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Hermione and Neville, St. Mungo's Hospital. OoOoOoO**_

Neville introduced Healer Robears to Harry and Hermione. Healer Tanya Robears looked at two of the most famous people of the modern age and just knew they had something she wasn't going to like. They were serious and slightly tense. She looked at Hermione, figuring that she would be the motivating force behind whatever they wanted. "Mr. Longbottom has given me the impression that you may have a way of helping his parents. I have some rules I must follow. Why don't we go into my office and discuss this?"

She waited for Hermione's short nod and led the way to her office. Once everyone was settled in chairs she looked at Hermione. "Why don't you tell me what you have in mind?"

Hermione smiled. "Today, we would like to take a skin scraping from Neville's parents, and that is all. At some point in the future, we will be back to do something a bit more involved."

Healer Robears cocked her head and simply waited. Hermione sighed and began explaining what they were going to do. Tanya Robears listened to her all the way through and then began asking questions.

Harry and Neville waited until she was done asking her questions and was staring at the parchment she'd covered with notes. Neville couldn't stand the silence any more and asked, "Are you going to work with us on this?"

Tanya looked up at him. "First, you tell me if this position was a bribe to get me to help you."

Neville shook his head. "That you benefit from it is purely secondary, and I didn't do anything but tell my grandmother about the problems that you were having getting Muggle treatments tried. She took it from there, and I feel quite certain that if you do not perform to Madame Pomfrey's standards, they will replace you."

Tanya smiled. "I thought so. Madame Pomfrey and Augusta have been going through every part of the Hospital, examining and making comments on the quality of care here." She grinned at one memory. "Your grandmother can be rather intimidating, can't she?"

Neville raised an eyebrow. "Has she looked down her nose yet, and started a conversation with, 'I must inform you'?"

Tanya grinned again. "Yes, that was it exactly."

Neville blushed. "I still feel about five years old when she does that. It's something in her manner and voice."

Tanya smiled again and then looked at the notes in front of her. She looked back at Hermione. "You have a doctor, for the Muggle things, but who's your healer, for the rest of it?"

Hermione looked at her notes. "Madame Pomfrey is willing to help, but she has Hogwarts and now the hospital to look after. I was hoping you knew of an open minded healer who is not currently too busy to take this assignment on."

Tanya Robears frowned, thinking about the question. Finally, she looked at the others. "I think I may know of a couple, both healers, who are free to help."

The three friends looked at each other. Healer Robears voice had been hesitant and she was biting her lip. Harry looked at her. "Why don't you tell me what you're worried about, and we'll discuss it?"

"She's a Werewolf, and he's a full Veela."

Harry blinked, confused. "And?"

Neville sighed. "Harry, racial prejudices in the Wizard world? Remember?"

Harry shrugged. "So what? We don't worry about that, and this is no one else's business."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, if this works, there are other people we might be able to help."

Harry shrugged again. "If they want the help, they'll have to come to the people with the cure, and since I'm the only one that knows the spell for the last part, that means the people I trust." He looked at Tanya. "Do you trust that they will do the job properly?" Tanya nodded. "Then it's settled."

Neville sighed. "Harry," he started, only to have Harry cut him off.

"No, Neville. I am willing to compromise on a lot of things, to allow the Wizard world time to change, but on this subject, there will be no compromise, no negotiations. When Voldemort came to Hogwarts to kill everyone, my allies included a half Veela, two Werewolves, a half giant and his full giant brother, several dozen House Elves, a Centaur, more than thirty Muggleborn Witches and Wizards and a bare handful of Pureblood Wizards."

Harry had stood up and was pacing in the confines of the room. Tanya was watching him, mesmerized by the passion in his voice as he spoke. "Most of my allies were those considered less then human by most Wizards, and they fought anyway, despite the fact that they would be helping defend the very world that kept them as second class people. I will not let them down. They were there for me, when I needed them, and I, by god, will not let them down."

Harry stopped, looking at the other three. His eyes were shining and his expression was one of utter conviction. "If the Pureblood Wizards are so wrapped up in their notions of superiority that they won't come to us for help, then they can die happy at home, and make room for people more worried about living than bloodlines."

Tanya Robears shook her head. "I don't quite agree, Mr. Potter. My oaths tell me to help everyone, regardless of how I may feel about them personally."

Harry looked at her. "So, you are telling me that if I told you that I didn't kill Voldemort, and brought him to you, you'd heal him?"

Tanya Robears opened her mouth, anger blazing in her eyes, and then shut it again and looked at her hands. When she looked up, she was calm and had the same look of conviction that Harry did. "Yes, I would. I may have the Aurors here to protect me and others, but I would heal him."

Harry smiled slowly. "I'm glad to see some people will stand up for their beliefs. I will assist you in healing anyone that comes to you for help, using Hermione's idea. In return, you will use the healer couple you spoke of. Fair enough?"

Healer Robears frowned at the blatant blackmail, but nodded. "That is," she said, "if it works. I will give you the skin scrapings you need, but you'd better have some good news for me before we continue." She looked at Hermione. "I don't need to tell you about the importance of recording every single step, even if it fails, do I?"

The two women started talking about something arcane sounding as they walked out to begin the process that could bring Neville's parents back from themselves.

Harry and Neville watched them walk out, completely ignoring the men as they discussed 'recorded observations' and 'hourly entries', whatever they were. Harry looked at Neville and smiled. "I think we're just about totally unnecessary at this point, don't you?"

_**OoOoOoO Harry, the woods behind Godric's Hollow. OoOoOoO**_

Harry steeled himself and practised the spell Raul Yonkers had taught him on a stump. Since the stump had no spirit to capture, he didn't know if he was doing it perfectly, but Harry knew what it should look like and when the dark red beam, the colour of dried blood, was consistent and matched the description Yonkers had given him, Harry sighed and looked at the cage he'd brought with him. Inside was a single rat, a wharf rat he'd gone into the docks of London for the day before.

Harry was not going to buy a rat that should have been a familiar or a pet for this, since he didn't know if it was possible to do this without killing the creature. He took a deep breath and pointed his wand at the rat. He cast the spell.

The beam hit the rat and it stiffened and fell over. Rising about it was a translucent figure that looked like the rat for an instant until it changed, becoming a tiny ball of white light.

Harry barely noticed that though, as he had problems of his own. Raul Yonkers had not been wrong. This was a feeling that some people would fight to keep. Even though it was only the soul of a rat, Harry could feel it, and the urge to do something with the spirit was very nearly overwhelming. Harry fought the urge to see what would happen if he put the spirit into the stump he had used for target practice earlier.

The worst rush, though came from having the soul in his power. He could feel it, and knew that he could use it to cast a spell that would be more powerful that anything he'd ever done. Using that spirit, he could use a first year levitation spell to lift a house. It would utterly destroy the spirit, but it would give him more power than anything he'd ever known or even heard of.

Harry forced himself to stop thinking about all the things he could do with the power in his hands and focussed on the rat's physical body. He moved the ball of light into the rat's body and released the spell.

Nothing seemed to happen at first, and then the rat's body went limp and Harry could see it breathing. He waited a few minutes until the rat opened its eyes and got up. He opened the cage and stepped back. In just a few seconds, the rat was out of the cage and disappearing into the woods.

Harry sat on the stump and thought. If the feeling of power increased with the size of the spirit, a human spirit might be impossible to handle, without giving in to the rush. He would have to find a larger animal to try the spell on before he tried it on a human. He'd have to go talk to Hagrid. He would have an animal Harry could use, and if he didn't, the Forbidden Forest had dozens of them. At least he knew that he could take the spirit out and return it to the body without any apparent damage. That had been the most important thing to learn, as Raul had never tried to put a soul back in its body, having used them for different purposes.

Harry frowned as he thought about the other thing that was bothering him about the spell. Yonkers had created the spell by modifying the Killing Curse, and it might be an Unforgivable because of that. Harry needed an expert in Wizard law that wouldn't ask why Harry needed to research the Unforgivables.

_**OoOoOoO Hermione and Dr. Graham Benoit, The new Lab. OoOoOoO**_

Hermione was under a desk, listening to Dr. Benoit. "Attach the green plug to the receptacle and secure it."

When she was finished, Hermione climbed out from under the desk. "What is this, anyway?" she asked, looking at the wires and the small box that sat next to the computer with lights blinking on it in sequences.

Dr. Benoit glanced at Hermione and then went back to typing commands into the desktop computer he was working with. "It's a wireless router. With it, I can use my laptop anywhere in the lab without having to have a physical access point handy."

Hermione nodded and then looked at the router with more interest. "You could use one of these at your house, can't you? Does it allow internet access?"

"You can, and yes it does, but this one is for a LAN only. Until we get some better security software, this will be a closed system. The last thing we need is a hacker figuring out what we're doing here."

Hermione frowned at him. "Just how many laws are we breaking here?"

Dr. Benoit shrugged. "Honestly? I don't know. There are two sets of rules, one for the government and one for civilians, and I've never been subject to the civilian rules until now. I'm certain though, that uncontrolled cloning, especially without finishing the process has to be against a few rules."

Hermione made a note to check on the laws covering cloning as a buzzer went off. Dr. Benoit looked up. "The DNA analysis is done. Let's see if your friends can be cloned."

Hermione looked around the lab while Dr. Benoit sat down at the main terminal of the computer. The lab was actually four rooms. The two outer rooms were a small flat, where the person watching the equipment inside could live. The flat had a door that led to the other two rooms via a short hallway and changing room. This was where you changed into the sterile clothing that was required inside the lab. There was also a small shower and hand washing station.

Exiting that room, you entered the lab itself. Everything in here had been sterilized before being brought in, and a closed air filtration system insured that no dust or other hazards entered from outside, while ionization and purification units kept anything that happened to come in with somebody from staying.

Hermione looked at the last room of the lab, the 'clean room' as Dr. Benoit called it. Three metres on each side, it was a pressurized glass walled room in the centre of the lab, and the requirements to enter that room made the outer lab look like a pig sty. Hermione had been in there just once, and after the inhalant that had cleaned out anything in her lungs, she was not particularly interested in going back in there, at least not until she found a way to do the sterilization magically.

While she was looking at the lab, Dr, Benoit had been looking at some printouts from the computer. "Fascinating reading here. You had better hope that no one ever does a full DNA analysis on a Wizard. There are a few unexplained clusters that are not normal here."

Hermione frowned as she searched her memory. "I'm sorry, Dr. Benoit, but what do you mean?"

"First, we are colleagues, and my name is Graham. As for this," he said, waving the printout, "It's not normal, under the rules I know of DNA."

Hermione looked at the printout and handed it back. "Now I know how Harry and Ron felt, when I was talking about something they hadn't studied. Would you mind explaining what you mean in the Queen's English?"

Dr. Benoit nodded. He began drawing as he spoke. "In the nucleus of each human cell, there are 46 chromosomes, and each chromosome contains a single DNA molecule. For comparison, in the bacterial species _Escherichia_ _coli_, each cell has only one chromosome and thus only one DNA molecule." _(Information by Louis Levine, Grolier Multimedia Encyclopaedia, 2002)_

Dr. Benoit continued. "While we have only begun to map the full DNA strand, there are several specific areas that separate a human from any other organism that has DNA. It is the difference in sequence of bases that gives each individual of a species its particular characteristics such as brown eyes or blue eyes, and finally, it is the difference in number and sequence of bases that distinguishes a human from a chimpanzee. Now, I expect to see the differences in their code here and here," he said, pointing to a section of the print out. "However, this section should be slightly different here, as should this section."

Hermione nodded, looking at the sections he'd circled. "What do these sections control?"

Dr. Benoit looked at it again and called something up on the computer. "That first section is ageing, as best we can tell at this time, and the other section of DNA is heavily involved with the immune system."

Hermione nodded, looking at the printout again. "That makes sense. Wizards tend to live fifty to sixty years longer than Muggles, and they appear to be immune to almost everything Muggles get, except the common cold."

Dr. Benoit frowned for a second as he thought about that. "I wonder what would happen if you performed a transfusion with a Wizard donating blood to a Muggle?" He shook his head and returned to looking at the printout. "As far as we can tell at this time, there are no visible genetic markers that would prevent the cloning or that we need to worry about. That is of course, based on the normal for Muggles, so there may still be a problem or two, but I would say we can proceed at this time."

Hermione sighed. "For this part, I'm going to have to ask you to come to St. Mungo's, Dr. Benoit. I simply don't know enough about this to explain to Healer Robears why we need to take some cells from Mrs. Longbottom's reproductive organs, or skin cells from Mr. Longbottom's ear." She looked at him curiously. "Why are we using two different techniques, anyway?"

Dr. Benoit sighed and sat down. "Cloning is in the early stages of its life, Hermione. In 1996, Dr. Ian Wilmut and his colleagues at the Roslin Institute in Edinburgh, Scotland, announced the birth of the sheep Dolly, which had its origin in the fusion of an adult mammary gland cell with an enucleated egg cell. That process, which is the oldest and most reliable at this point, requires female cells from the reproductive system. That is the technique we will use for Mrs. Longbottom."

He pulled an article up on his computer and showed Hermione a diagram. "In January 2000, researchers from the University of Connecticut and a Japanese cattle-breeding institute announced the successful cloning of a bull, using skin cells from the ear. Skin cells are much more common and accessible than reproductive cells or other internal cells. That is the process we will use on Mr. Longbottom."

He sat up and rolled his neck around. "We're using two techniques for several reasons. If something goes wrong with one, we can change over to the other, or at worst, return one Longbottom to life while we work on the other one."

He looked at Hermione. "I wonder if you understand what we're doing here, Hermione. You must know that as of this year, there are no human clones that any one is admitting to, anywhere in the world."

Hermione glanced at him. "The process is the same, and if it works for sheep and mice and pigs, it will work on humans. We can test all you want, Dr. Benoit, but I don't give a hoot about the law. There are two people wasting away, and we can help them, as well as helping out a very good man, who has never known his parents."

Dr. Benoit shrugged. "I assume you have something planned if the Muggle authorities find out what we're doing here."

Hermione nodded again. "A couple is going to joining you, and living in the flat while the clones are here. They are Magical folk, and don't know anything about science, but they can hit a speed dial on the phone if anything goes wrong, that was why I wanted the computer tied into every machine. We can set alarms to warn us if anything goes outside of the parameters you set, and they can get us, so that you can continue with your work, and I can do my work. If they have any problems with the Muggles, I'll simply Obliviate the Muggles and lead them away from here."

Hermione smiled suddenly. "If the Wizards figure out that we're doing something, I think we can cover that as well. We have several very important people involved in this, including Harry Potter."

Dr. Benoit nodded. "Then I will not worry about official notice, and I assume the couple can deal with any unofficial notice as well."

Hermione nodded and grinned at him. "She's a werewolf," she said impishly, "and he's a full Veela. I think we can assume that they can handle a housebreaker or other unofficial annoyance."

Dr. Benoit blinked as he thought about that. "I wonder if they would allow me to run a DNA scan on them. It would be fascinating to see what differences they have to Muggles and Wizards."

Hermione shrugged. "We can ask them, but if they say no, I draw the line at forcing them to do anything."

Dr. Benoit smiled wryly. "I'm glad to know you have some limits to your search for knowledge."

_**OoOoOoO Tanya, Hermione, Melissa Winters and Shallaran, The Fish and Hook. OoOoOoO**_

Hermione looked up as Tanya entered the pub, followed by two people. She waved to attract their attention and examined the couple that followed Tanya over to the table that was Hermione's favourite.

The woman was fairly average, and looked to be about thirty five or so, which Hermione assumed was close to her actual age. She had brown hair and eyes, and the only thing that stood out about her was the silent grace with which she walked. She was thin and dressed in a simple jeans and t shirt set. Hermione understood that, as she would be changing later tonight, and jeans were cheap enough if she changed before she could disrobe.

Her companion was another story altogether. He was tall and blonde, with vivid blue eyes that set off a beautiful face. He was, in short, spectacularly gorgeous, built by his Veela ancestors to attract the attention of every female in sight. Hermione frowned as she realized that he was not affecting her, unlike the other women in the pub, who were openly staring at him with expressions ranging from desire to outright lust.

Tanya sat down and as soon as the couple were sitting down, she cast a spell around their table. Hermione recognized it as a variant of the Confundis spell, making people ignore an area, no matter what they saw there.

"Hermione Granger, this is Healer Melissa Winters and Healer Shallaran. They are currently between assignments, and might be willing to help you with your project."

Hermione shook their hands and didn't miss the flare of anger in Melissa's eyes as Tanya mentioned them being "between assignments". She looked at them both for a minute, and then pulled a pad from under her robes with a biro. "First, why don't you tell me about your qualifications, Melissa."

An hour later, Hermione was certain she could work with the two of them. Both of them had done a full apprenticeship with a Healer, and it was only their respective natures that kept them from acting as Healers. Melissa Winters had been a Healer, until the attack that had made her a werewolf. Shallaran could still be a Healer, in a Veela community, but they shunned him, since he'd chosen to mate a werewolf. He had turned his back on the Veela ways, deciding love was more important to him than family.

Melissa was a Witch, having attended Beaubaxtons, while Shallaran was Veela trained in the things they could do, and had picked up a good deal of magic, although as a full Veela, he could only do the magic that didn't require a wand.

"I think we can work together," Hermione said, "as soon as we get the matter of wages out of the way." She looked at Tanya. "What does a speciality Healer make at St. Mungo's?"

Tanya thought for a minute. "Healers with a trained speciality make between seventy and ninety Galleons a week, unless they are senior healers, and then they make about one hundred and twenty-five to one hundred and sixty Galleons a week, depending on their speciality"

Hermione nodded, making some calculations on the pad of paper. "I will be asking you to do some Muggle things, and you will be the only healers trained in the various things we need for this, which makes you Speciality healers. Since you're also the only ones that will be able to do this, I think a flat two hundred Galleons a week should be acceptable. Is that acceptable to you?"

Melissa and Shallaran looked at each other. "Since we have no other offers at all," Melissa said wryly, "I suppose it will do."

Hermione frowned, making more scribbles on the paper. "Right. Two hundred Galleons, times two people, times four weeks is sixteen hundred Galleons, correct?"

Melissa and Shallaran stared at her and then at each other. "We thought you meant for the both of us," Shallaran said.

Hermione frowned. "That would be silly. You're the only ones that will be able to do this."

"We're also aware of the problems we have with most of the Wizard world." Melissa's voice was bitter. Shallaran took her hand and stroked it gently.

Hermione shrugged. "I am not them, and I am far more concerned with skills and results than your furry little problem or his beauty." Hermione smiled as she remembered hearing Sirius refer to Remus's curse as his 'furry little problem'.

Melissa smiled softly. "Forgive me, but it is rare to find a Witch that doesn't think I'm a greater danger than any illness."

Hermione smiled back. "I am a Muggleborn Witch, aware of the biasses of Wizards, and even if I wasn't, Harry Potter is the primary mover behind this project, and he has no biasses, other than a certain term and stupidity." Hermione thought about it. "And prejudiced people, racial biasses, arrogance, notions of Pureblood superiority." Hermione stopped. "Harry is as bad as anyone in his own way. I just happen to agree with him."

Tanya grinned. "So do I."

Melissa and Shallaran looked at each other. "If Mr. Potter is the man behind this, why isn't he here?"

Hermione thought for a second. "Right now, I believe Harry is in the middle of a DADA lesson with the first year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and when the lessons end he has a meeting with some people for the Ginny Weasley fund, and then the Wizengamot meeting. By the time he could be free to talk to you, Miss Winters would be unavailable for conversation."

Shallaran was watching her. "I know why you're not noticing me. You're in love." He looked relieved. "I was afraid that you would be enthralled, and we would be out of a job before we even started."

Hermione blushed. "I might be, but that is my private life."

Melissa raised her head. Sniffing the air, she looked at Hermione. "We won't say any more about it, but people in love smell different."

Tanya looked at Hermione with a smile. Tanya had known Harry and Hermione loved each other since their first meeting. It was obvious to anyone that watched them interact for more than ten minutes.

Hermione looked at Tanya. "How come you're not affected by him?"

Tanya just smiled. "I've got my own love, one that protects me from the effects of a Veela."

Hermione finished the details for their job and gave them a draft for Gringotts, to cover their first month's wages. She smiled at the couple. "Dr. Benoit may ask you to participate in a few tests. If you're not comfortable with them, say so. You don't have to do any of them, although we would both be interested in examining the differences between the various genetic codes."

Melissa cocked her head. "We will consider it, as long as you respect our privacy, and let us know before you write anything about us."

Hermione blushed. "Contrary to popular opinion," she said primly, "I do not write books about everything I know."

Melissa grinned. "Then you must know a lot you haven't told anyone. I believe you have at least four books out, all written in the last two years."

Hermione shrugged and blushed. "I wrote about the Voldemort war simply because people were spreading the wildest stories, and I thought the truth needed to be told. The others are simple compilations of books and ideas that were scattered across a dozen authors and eras, except for the study guide, and that is simple common sense."

Melissa snorted, a sound that had a bit of a growl to it. She looked at the clock. "We're going to have be going, as moonrise is early tonight, but if those books are simple to you, Miss Granger, then your intelligence is sadly understated."

They stood up and made their good-byes, promising to be in touch as soon as the moon allowed. Tanya looked at Hermione after they were gone. "Why do you constantly downplay your accomplishments? You've done as much as anyone to help people and save the world, but getting you to admit it is harder than getting Mr. Potter to smile in public."

Hermione looked up. "Mostly, because we didn't do enough. If I'd worked a little harder, or been a bit smarter, we would have destroyed the Horcruxes before Voldemort was strong enough to consider attacking Hogwarts."

Tanya shook her head. "I dare you to tell Mr. Potter that."

Hermione shook her head slowly. "Harry has his own demons to deal with about that night. I would never burden him with mine." Hermione looked at her watch as it beeped. "Right now, I have to go and check on the lab, so if you will excuse me, duty calls."

Hermione left some Muggle money on the table to pay for the drinks and food they'd consumed and Apparated away, leaving a very thoughtful healer behind. Tanya sat there for nearly an hour, thinking hard. "Not all injuries are visible," she finally said to herself as she got up to leave, "and not every wound is cured with a potion or spell."

_**OoOoOoO Harry, the woods behind Godric's Hollow. OoOoOoO**_

Harry stopped in front of the stump he'd practised on two weeks ago and slowly and deliberately created six porcelain busts of Voldemort's head. When he was done, he destroyed each head, using vastly overpowered destructive spells that reduced each bust to a fine dust drifting in the breeze.

When he was done, Harry didn't feel much better, but he didn't think he'd hex the first person that annoyed him today.

It had been more than a week since he'd decided to talk to Hermione about his feelings for her, and he still hadn't done it. Between teaching at Hogwarts, Wizengamot duties, the project and the other simple duties of his life, and Hermione's school, the project, the Wizengamot and teaching Melissa and Shallaran the things they needed to do, they simply hadn't had two minutes of privacy to talk in nearly two weeks.

Harry wanted to talk to Hermione, but he was not going to breach this subject in front of anyone, not wanting his private life spread all over the papers. Well, not any more than it was already anyway.

He was, if he was to be honest with himself, also afraid that she might not feel the same way about him, and that his telling her this would ruin their friendship. He had seen what happened when one person loved another that did not return the feelings too many times at Hogwarts and since then, and he wanted to be Hermione's friend more than he wanted a lover. If she didn't love him, he could only hope that their friendship would survive his announcement.

_**OoOoOoO Harry and Hermione, late that night, the Wizengamot Chamber. OoOoOoO**_

"Harry, do you have anything planned next Saturday night?"

Harry frowned as he thought about it. "Yes, I have Hogwarts patrol that night."

Hermione frowned. "What night this week do you have open? You still owe me a dinner, and I think it's time to collect."

Harry's heart leaped. That would be the perfect time to talk to Hermione about how he felt. He thought. "I have Thursday night free," he said, "and the next night I have free is next Tuesday."

Hermione frowned. "I have a late class Thursday, and Tuesday we're taking the cells for the project, and we'll be working late. What about next Friday?"

Harry thought. "I have a DA meeting until six, but I'm free after that."

Hermione smiled. "Perfect. If you would be kind enough to show up at my house around seven, we'll use mum's car to go into London. I'll make the reservations."

Harry grinned. "You'll be driving also, I think, since I never learned how."

Hermione smiled. "So, while were in London, you'll be at my mercy? Unable to escape anything I want you to do?" She rubbed her hands together, smiling evilly at Harry.

Harry swallowed as he pictured a few things she could do to him. "I just have one question," he said, firmly pushing thoughts of her lips away. "Where am I going to get Muggle dress clothes?"

_**OoOoOoO Hermione, Dr. Benoit and Tanya, St. Mungo's. OoOoOoO**_

Hermione barely noticed the looks they got as they walked to the Long Term Care Ward. Dr. Benoit was carrying a satchel that contained the things he would need to extract the required cells from Mrs. Longbottom and the case that would allow him to carry the cells back to the lab, where Melissa and Shallaran waited to begin the cloning.

In the Ward, the Longbottoms were in a private room, being looked after by Madame Pomfrey, who was supposedly examining them, with an eye toward a new potion that might help. That was the cover they were using to prevent any outcry about what they were really going to do.

It was a very good thing that Tanya had put them in the largest room she had, as it would have been crowded with the people in there. Besides the Longbottoms, Madame Pomfrey, Hermione, Dr. Benoit, Tanya and Augusta Longbottom were present.

Hermione was surprised to see the elder Mrs. Longbottom. She shrugged. "Neville is at the greenhouses, dealing with a rather dangerous plant that must be contained. Since this affects us all, I will represent the Longbottoms in this event."

She looked at Hermione. "I have read your notes, Miss Granger, and I must say that the Longbottoms owe you two Life Debts, if this works. For even trying, we owe you a family favour"

Hermione shook her head. "You don't owe me anything, Mrs. Longbottom. I am not doing anything here. Dr. Benoit is doing the cloning, Melissa, Shallaran and Tanya will oversee the ageing, and Harry will perform the last bit of magic that ties it all together. All I did was come up with an idea."

Augusta Longbottom looked down her nose at Hermione. "I must inform you that false modesty is very unbecoming in anyone. Magic can be done by many people, and from your account, cloning can be done by at least a few people. Only one person though, has the mind that could combine them both and come up with a cure for a condition that has stymied the finest healers in the world for twenty years."

Hermione blushed, but remained silent. She looked at Frank Longbottom, who was being examined by Dr. Benoit and Tanya. Tanya cast a numbing spell on his ear and Dr. Benoit carefully scraped a thin layer of skin from his ear.

Tanya had the scrape healed before he finished putting the cells away and Dr. Benoit examined the spot with interest. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "we might want to look into combining medicine and magic in other areas as well. Many surgeries are hazardous simply because of the chance of infection from open wounds. If you can close them that quick, they would be far less dangerous."

Tanya thought about it as they moved to Alice Longbottom. "We will discuss it, after we see how well this project goes. Despite the support of the Board, it will be hard to get anyone to agree to try Muggle things if this project goes bad."

Dr. Benoit sighed. "That would be foolish of Wizards. This is a radical procedure, with a few things in it that have never been done, and far more dangerous than a simple surgery taught to second year medical students."

Augusta Longbottom sighed. "Prejudice and bias are not very smart, Healer Benoit, but they are there."

Dr. Benoit smiled wryly. "I will say one thing for the Wizard world. I've never heard that you discriminate based solely on the colour of a man's skin."

The Wizard born looked at each other in confusion. Tanya was the first to speak. "What has that got to do with anything? You're either a Wizard or a Muggle, and no one can say that one's colour has anything to do with it. Wizards come from every race and continent."

Dr. Benoit looked at her with a smile. "Trust me, not everyone I know would agree with you about that, but racial discrimination is too long of a subject to get into right now."

He looked at the others. "Right now, I need to do several intimate things to Mrs. Longbottom, and while Healer Robears is welcome to stay, I would prefer that the rest of you leave, for the patient's dignity."

Hermione, who knew exactly what he was going to do, started for the door. The others hesitated and then followed her slowly.

Outside the door, Hermione found herself explaining the basics of a gynaecological exam to women older than her mother. Her only happy thought was that there were no men present to listen.

Dr. Benoit came out with Tanya long before she was finished answering questions and he looked at her. "We have to go. The cells have to be safely tubed within a very short time."

Hermione nodded and excused herself. The two of them were outside before she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. Dr. Benoit looked at her. "Something wrong?"

Hermione coloured briefly. "I was explaining what you were doing to women several decades older than I was."

Dr. Benoit grinned. "Shall I assume they have little knowledge of Muggle gynaecology practices?"

Hermione Side Along Apparated them before answering that. "Absolutely none, as far as I can tell."

They changed into the lab wear and entered the lab where Melissa and Shallaran were waiting.

Dr. Benoit looked at the people around him. "Starting the cells is the most critical part of this, and a mistake here will stop us. We do have enough cells for three attempts, but I would like to hold some in reserve for later problems, so let's get this right first time."

The four of them set to work, double checking each other as they worked.

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Auror's Headquarters, the Ministry building. OoOoOoO**_

Harry stared at Amelia Bones. "I assume you have a good reason for sending Aurors to the Wizengamot to find me."

Amelia nodded. "I thought you might like to see this for yourself, rather than find out in the morning paper."

She pushed a parchment over to Harry. "It came by owl, and one was delivered to every Wizard paper in Europe at the same time."

Harry picked up the parchment and read it.

_To: Harry Potter,_

_From: Lord Voldemort._

_You're a fool, Potter, if you thought I stopped researching immortality at Horcruxes. They were a good beginning, but too subject to outside influences and destruction._

_There are other paths to immortality, and not all of them can be found and destroyed. You may have taken my physical body for a time, but I am back, and now, I will make you pay for your disruption of my plans._

_I have read the Mudblood's book about the war effort, and I know that my forces have killed the woman you loved. Next, I will kill the two most important people in your life today."_

_Lord Voldemort._

Harry's eyes blazed. Amelia Bones shivered but handed Harry four pictures. "These came with the letter," she said softly.

The first picture was of the Trio, with their Orders of Merlin, first class.

The second was of Harry and Hermione at the dinner.

The third was a picture of Ron, making a save at the last Chudley Cannons game.

The last one was a Wizard picture, of Voldemort, as he had appeared after the events of the Tri-Wizard's tournament, snake faced and red-eyed. In the picture, he continually raised his wand and set the paper he was holding on fire.

This Voldemort was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet that Harry had no problem recognizing.

It was the issue dealing with Hermione's saving of Harry, during the Chudley Cannon's charity event.

_**OoOoOoO The Author, Here and Now. OoOoOoO**_

_He's back..._

_And he's not happy with Harry._

_Raven, off to finish SoG10, and then get to BoB and maybe even a chapter of SoM._

_PS. If anyone knows a Beta, who can handle several stories at once, please let me know. I need a Beta that can do each story as I do a chapter. SoG is first, followed in order by BoB, MM&WS and PoE, which has its own Beta. There are also little Plot Bunnies here and there, as well as the odd chapter of the other stories I have going._

_Any Beta as insane as I am for trying to write all of this at once would be good. Whoever it is, they have to be better than me, and be able to remember that Amelia Bones is alive in PoE and MM&WS, but dead in SoG and in a different job in BoB and SoM. (I need a multiple personality disorder, so each personality can write one story, and keep the time lines and characters straight in their head.)_

_For those of you that are wondering, The Human Genome mapping project was not completed until 2001, and in the beginning of this story, Harry is only barely twenty, making it 2000, if you assume he started Hogwarts in 1991. At this point in time, no human clone had been done, and in the USA, Willy "I did not have sex with that woman" Clinton has banned federal funding of human cloning, and asked for laws controlling to be enacted. I assume most countries are following the same path at that time, as human cloning has only been possible for a couple of years._

_He turned twenty this year. For the amusingly obsessed person that asked, It is the beginning of January, just after the return to Hogwarts from Holidays. I love detail orientated people, even if I don't understand them._

_Remember, the story started in OCT, about a week before Halloween. I have not documented every day of their lives, because most of those days had nothing to do with the story._

_If you really want me to, I'll start putting the date on the break lines, such as I do in other stories. Of course, that means you'll have to leave a review to tell me you want the dates, or email me... your choice._

_Raven, off again._

_**All cloning information and data is from articles in the Grolier Multimedia Encyclopaedia, year 2002. No copyright infringement or misuse is intended.**_


	6. Resurrections and Recollections

_Here we go with the science and magic. Again, I ask those of you that do know something about cloning to be nice. I don't know anything about it other than what I can get from books and a Google or two. Oh yeah, and Harry will have to do something about You Know Who, again. Some people just don't know when to go away._

_Dedication: This chapter is for FanFic Guardian and Vicki, who's extreme patience, nitpicking and careful Beta reading of all my works has allowed me to grow as a writer, far beyond the limits I thought I had. Thank you doesn't begin to cover the debt I them._

_**Muggle Magic and Wizard Science**_

_**Chapter Six**_

_**Resurrections and Recollections.**_

_**OoOoOoO Harry, The Ministry Building, 03JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Harry stared at the letter and the pictures that had been sent to the Head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones. He set the five things down very gently and closed his eyes. "Hermione is in the Muggle world tonight. I will go and find her. Ron is at a Quidditch match, I believe. Would you be kind enough to have a couple of Aurors watch over him until I come back with Hermione?"

Amelia Bones felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Harry Potter was not happy and the things in her office were vibrating as he wavered on the edge of accidental magic. He took a deep breath and the feel of his magic changed, becoming focussed and sharp. He stood up and left, not quite running but moving quickly.

Amelia Bones made a Floo call, assigning a team of Aurors to find and watch Ron Weasley. After that she began activating the new Auror threat alert. Since the end of the Voldemort War, the Aurors had undergone sweeping changes, designed to improve reactions and responses to Dark Wizards.

Not that anyone had plans for fighting a Wizard that could come back from being splinched together with a snake, beheaded and having the remains burned. Amelia sighed as she sent off a dozen owls with messages. It was going to be a long night.

_**OoOoOoO Hermione, Dr. Benoit, Shallaran and Melissa, The Lab, 03JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

"Subject one has cell division. The results are within normal parameters. Subject two has failed to achieve the necessary division and will have to be terminated and restarted." Dr. Benoit frowned as he looked at the second batch of cells. For the purposes of their notes and the official record of their work, Mrs. Longbottom was Subject one and Mr. Longbottom was Subject two. Subject two was a failure. He didn't know why yet and he frowned as he continued to examine the cells.

Possibly, he had forgotten something. He would go over their notes and records before they tried again. It was a pity that both subjects weren't female, as that would give them two different ways to attempt the cloning, but the oldest method of cloning required cells from the female reproductive system, and Subject two just didn't have that.

He looked up as Hermione came up. "The Lab's wards are finished. How is the work going?"

He let her look at the cells. She studied them for a minute and looked up with a frown. She checked the clock and looked at him. "Shouldn't we be seeing cellular division by now?"

He nodded and she closed her eyes. "How many times can we restart Subject two?"

He shrugged. "As long as he is still alive, as many times as it takes to get a viable clone. It's not as if we have a limited number of cells to get from him."

Shallaran and Melissa were listening to them. "Pardon me," said Shallaran, "but it wasn't anything we did that caused him to fail, was it?"

Dr. Benoit shrugged. "We don't know what caused the failure at this point. I'll go over at the records and attempt to determine what happened, but we may never know what happened."

Integrating magic and science had not been nearly as easy at they had thought. It had taken nearly two month of work just to train the two Healers in enough Muggle science that they could help out in the Lab at all. Wizards knew nothing about germs or electronic diagnostic equipment, and the scientific method of experimentation was just as foreign to them.

On the other hand, Dr. Benoit was unable to use the Accucopy Quills that made note taking so easy for Wizards, and Hermione's grasp of magic and spells had made a dozen or more regular lab routines unnecessary or much easier. The little antechamber to the clean room now had a magical field in it that took the place of the shower and other things designed to keep every trace of foreign bodies out of the sterile lab area. That saved them endless hours of work that could be better spent actually in the sterile room. Another minor spell made the autoclave and other sterilization tools obsolete.

Adding to the problem was the nearly total lack of knowledge about cloning that the Wizards had. Hermione was studying hard, but a few weeks of study, even by someone as intelligent as she was, does not make up for the years of schooling required for cutting edge science.

Hermione had been wrong about cloning. While it was a viable branch of science, the first successful clone was a bare two years old at this point and no one really knew that much about this new field. Dr. Benoit was a biogenetic engineer specializing in gene splicing. He had moved over into cloning five years earlier when the Muggle government started Project Morpheus. The idea of the project was to attempt to find a way to grow human organs for transplants, and that was a bit different than what they were doing here.

The problem was that there simply were not that many people that could do the work and who were not already employed in this field. Dr. Benoit was still going to his Muggle job during the day and coming to the Lab after work. He was working on the paperwork to take a leave of absence, supposedly so he could go back to University to take a few classes, but as anyone, Muggle or Wizard can tell you, government paperwork is slow.

Hermione shook her head and took a deep breath and pushed that away while she looked at the cells of Subject one. "How many subdivisions will we wait for before moving them into the next stage?"

Dr. Benoit thought for a minute. "We'll wait until we have at least forty before moving them to the womb." It wasn't a real womb, but they were calling the computer controlled nutrient bath that the foetus would grow in the womb.

Hermione nodded. Before they could continue, the doorbell and the wards made a tone together. Hermione looked up. "There's a Wizard at the door. It should be Harry, as he's the only one that knows where we are. Melissa, would you let him in, please?"

Melissa started toward the door as the doorbell sounded again. Hermione frowned. Harry was a patient man. He'd almost never rung the bell at her parent's house more than once and never this quickly. She started that way.

Melissa opened the door and Harry stepped inside, pushing past her, his eyes searching the front room of the flat. "Where's Hermione?"

Melissa blinked. Her werewolf senses could smell Harry's anger and fear and she bristled at the emotional overload he was under. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind and had to fight the wolf's fight or flight instincts as Harry's smell nearly sent her over the edge.

Hermione came in then and Harry's eyes went to her. He sighed and relief pushed some of his emotions down. "Hermione, we have a problem."

Hermione looked at her friend and knew that he had news she didn't want to hear. Harry was wound up tighter than she'd ever seen him, except during the war. "Harry, what's wrong?"

He looked at her. "Voldemort's back. He's threatened to kill you and Ron."

_**OoOoOoO Ron, The Holyfield Harpies Quidditch Stadium, 03JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Ron was finishing his shower after the match when there was a commotion in the dressing room. He shut the shower off and dried himself with a wave of his wand. Ron had never been as wound up as Harry, but from the sounds and shouts coming from the other room, he didn't want whatever was happening to catch him in his skin.

He dressed quickly and was just putting his robes on when the door opened and two strangers pushed in. Ron has his wand on them and they stopped. "Ron Weasley?" one of them asked, more as confirmation than asking.

"Who are you?" Ron asked.

"I am Auror Greengrass and this is Auror Meriweather. We need you to come with us, please."

Ron looked at them and he could see the nervous tenseness in them. "Right after you tell me what's going on."

The Auror looked at him and Ron felt a quiver run up his spine. The Auror was scared. His next words drove all of that from his mind. "There has been a threat against your life, sir. Right now, it appears that You Know Who has returned."

Ron stared at him and started to grin until he looked at them again. Both of the men were flicking looks everywhere and Auror Meriweather had his wand in his hand. His knuckles were white around the dark wood. "You're not working for my brothers, are you?"

Auror Greengrass shook his head. "I wish we were. Voldemort sent a letter to Harry Potter via Head Auror Bones. He has made specific threats against you and Miss Granger."

Ron fought down a lizard brain fear. "That bloody bastard just won't stay dead, will he?" Ron curled his hands into fists. "Damn it," he swore. "I was beginning to like being a Keeper. Now I've got to help Harry stop him again." He started toward the door.

The two Aurors followed him. "Mr. Weasley, where do you think you're going?"

Ron spun, his anger and fear at the situation making him snap at Auror Greengrass. "I'm going to find Harry so we can stuff that bloody freak up his own arse. Apparently, the freaking snake didn't work." Ron turned and was going out the door while the two Aurors looked at each other.

Auror Meriweather managed a small smile at his partner's quiet comment. "If Mr. Potter is even half this angry, you can almost feel sorry for You Know Who."

Ron sent a Patronus message to Harry and got an answer back in about fifteen minutes. Five minutes later, he joined Harry and Hermione in the Leaky Cauldron.

The three of them went to a private room and looked at each other. Harry told them what he'd seen in Amelia Bones' office. "He had the charity event paper. Since that hadn't happened-."

Ron interrupted him. "No need to spell it out, Harry. Even I am not that thick. I will say this though. That bastard is not interfering in my season. I will go to practice and to the games."

Harry stared at Ron for a minute. He nodded slowly. "I agree. We should all go on with our regular business. We'll have to do something about him, but we beat him the last time and if we start running around in a panic, the entire country is going to go crazy."

Hermione frowned. "I have to continue what I'm doing. It's on a schedule I can't just rearrange for a megalomaniac homicidal psychopath."

Ron looked curious but set it aside for the more important matters. "What are we going to do, Harry?"

Harry sighed and was about to say something when they all felt a tingle in their Wizengamot rings. Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm going to a Wizengamot meeting. That's the urgent signal. They have heard about Voldemort, I would guess. I'll be tied up for a couple of hours. Ron, if you would get with Neville tomorrow, I'll warn him you're coming. See how many of the DA you can round up, will you?"

Ron nodded and Harry turned his attention to Hermione. "Would you do me a favour tonight? Go home. You're as safe as anywhere there and I'll join you a bit later, after the meeting."

Hermione sighed and waggled her hand at Harry. "I'm in the Wizengamot, remember? I'll be at the meeting with you."

Harry rubbed his eyes. "I don't know which would be worse, admitting I forgot that or pretending that I wasn't thinking."

_**OoOoOoO The Wizengamot, 03JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

"What are we going to do? You Know Who is back!"

Hermione was watching Harry with a great deal of concern. They had been listening to half of the Wizengamot scream, shout and run in circles for nearly an hour and Harry was getting that little crease between his eyes that meant he was about to boil over.

"Who cares if he's back?" came a drawling voice from the corner. "After all, we have the great Harry Potter to deal with him. Hopefully, this time he'll do it right." Harry looked up and locked eyes with Alberta Goyle. After the Dementors finished with the Death Eaters in the Goyle family, she had become the head of the family and she hated Harry with a nearly physical passion. Harry was certain that she was the cause of most of the subtle resistance to his plans in the Wizengamot.

Alberta Goyle was a thin older woman, nearly eighty years old, middle aged for a Witch. She was also an excellent example of a Slytherin, ambitious and far too smart to openly offend or oppose Harry, doing all of her work in the background or through proxies. Harry wanted her to come out and openly declare war, but she knew that Harry could bury her in open disputes. This comment was as close as she had ever come to insulting Harry.

"Maybe this time, since his army is no longer hiding him and supplying him, I won't have to decimate entire families to find him." Harry stood up as several people paled. There were a dozen people in this room that held their seats because a significant amount of their families had been Kissed or killed in the final few months of the war. Harry looked around, hiding his scorn for most of the people here only with a great effort. "I have listened to you act like children for too long. I will find Voldemort, again. I will kill anyone standing with him, again. This time, though, I will not kill him." Harry smirked at the pale faces staring at him. "If he won't stay dead, I'll do something to immobilize him and use him as a birdbath in my garden. That way, I know he won't be causing you all to stain your knickers again."

Several people jerked at the open insult and Harry pinned them with a look. "Until you can say his name without flinching, don't complain about the way I speak. His name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, half blood son of a Muggle father under a love potion. He's just a man. He may have done things to insure his immortality, but that simply means I stop trying to kill him and simply capture him. If I have to, I'll Crucio him until his brains are scrambled like eggs." Harry looked at Hermione and held out his arm. "Witch Granger, I am in need of your research abilities again. Would you assist me in saving the world again?" He looked at Neville as Longbottom tried to hide his smile. Harry might have an inner Slytherin, but when he got angry, he was pure Gryffindor, eager and willing to confront anyone that stood in his way. "Wizard Longbottom, Wizard Weasley will be calling on you tomorrow to see about a reunion of old friends. Would you be kind enough to assist him, please?"

Neville nodded. "I already checked to see how many of the old group had kept their coins. I'll be meeting with them tomorrow, or as many of them as I can get."

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

As Harry waved his hand and the door opened, a Witch stood up. "Wizard Potter."

Harry looked at her. Heather Donagall was a Scots born Witch and one of the few neutrals that actually voted on an issue based on the evidence and discussion. Harry respected her as he did few of the Wizengamot people. "Yes, Witch Donagall?"

"Not all of us are scared of a word. Imagine that, some of us can even say Voldemort. I resent being lumped in with those with less intestinal fortitude."

Harry bowed slightly. "I withdraw the comment in your case, Witch Donagall. Perhaps you would care to join Wizard Longbottom and see if you might be interested in joining another group. I promise, all of them have a great deal of intestinal fortitude."

She smiled. "I think it might be interesting, being in the DA."

Harry put a finger to his lips. "Shh. The DA is a vigilante group and is not, strictly speaking, allowed to exist outside of the grounds of Hogwarts, where it is simply a defence club."

Heather Donagall smiled. "I see. Then I would love to meet your old friends. Perhaps in time, I will be able to claim that title."

Harry nodded. "Perhaps." A shadow crossed his face. "Of course, many of my old friends exist now only in my memory. I hope you avoid that fate." He turned and left.

A casual wave closed the door behind him and he stopped, pulling an Extendable Ear from his pocket. He smirked at Hermione. "Somehow, I keep forgetting to tell them that this things will work under their door. He listened to the Wizengamot chamber for a minute and then rolled up the Ear. "I knew it. They're too busy bickering over my insults to do anything constructive tonight. Let's get to work." Harry's eyes blazed in a way Hermione had not seen in two years. "I swear, I will find a way to keep him in the grave, if I have to use that spell on him."

Hermione thought about that as they walked to the Ministry Apparation point. "It wouldn't work, with the current evidence, Harry. His last body was destroyed and he still came back. It has to be something that is tying his spirit to earth. We need a way to trap a soul or destroy one."

Harry blinked at her, thinking about Raul Yonkers' spell. "We have one."

_**OoOoOoO Neville, Longbottom Estate, 03JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

_**flashback, just before the Wizengamot meeting.**_

Neville listen to Amelia with a growing sense of disbelief. This was stone cold impossible. Voldemort's soul had been mostly destroyed with the Horcruxes and his physical body had been burned after Harry had done whatever he did to kill him. There was no way that he could be back. He looked at Amelia. "Are you certain this isn't a hoax? Something someone else is doing to use his reputation?"

Amelia sighed. "I hope it is, Mr. Longbottom, but we can't operate on that idea. We have to respond as if it is Voldemort. He might have found another path that allowed him to survive whatever Harry did to him."

Neville thought for a minute. "I'll call the Wizengamot and brief them. What else do we know right now?"

Amelia shook her head. "Not much. So far, all he's done is threaten Ms. Granger and Ron Weasley."

Neville looked up. "What was Harry's response?"

Amelia looked at him. "What do you think? He's in the Muggle world, warning Ms. Granger and after that, he's going to collect Mr. Weasley. I assume he's going to do something after that, but Mr. Potter has never been very forthcoming about his plans."

Neville snorted. "That's an understatement." He thought for a few more minutes. "I think I'll see how many of the DA have their coins still. Harry may need a few people he can trust."

Amelia sighed. "As an Auror, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you just say you were going to contact a vigilante group. Speaking as a human being, I'll have Susan get in touch with you."

Amelia broke the Floo connection and Neville looked at his desk. Mounted in a frame was the DA Galleon that Hermione had enchanted so long ago. He sighed and touched it with his wand. In Hogwarts, Hermione had been the only one that knew enough to activate it, but most of the DA had figured out how to use it by the end of their seventh year. Neville sent out a general contact me message, with an urgent emphasis and sat back.

"We live together, Nevvie. I don't think you need that to talk to me." Neville turned and looked at Luna. She was fingering the Galleon that had taken centre place in her Butterbeer cap necklace.

He sighed, pulling her into his lap, more to feel her touch and for comfort than anything else. He told her about what Amelia had told him. When he was done, Luna was silent for a minute. "Harry will not like this," Luna said, staring at the wall. "This being has made a grave error."

Neville looked at Luna, puzzled. She laid her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember why Harry won?"

Neville flashed back to the Battle of Hogwarts. "Harry was always in the front of the battle," he said, "but it wasn't until Ginny died that-." He stopped.

"Harry will always be more when people he loves are threatened and Hermione and Ron are at the top of that list now." Luna sighed. "Harry is going into this battle to protect people he loves, not to stay alive or defend the Wizard world. I think this fight will be short. I just hope Harry doesn't do something he will regret."

Neville hugged Luna tighter, feeling a shiver run through him. Before Ginny's death, Harry had tried to take Death Eaters out of the fight without killing them if he could. After her death, Harry had not taken any prisoners. Neville sighed and gently set Luna in the chair as he got up. "I have work to do, love. Please let any of the DA that call here know what's going on and tell them that I'll set up a meeting time tomorrow. Ask them to Floo or owl any of the DA that they can and make sure everyone knows that Harry may need us."

He stepped up to the Floo. "I have to brief the Wizengamot. I may be back late."

Luna nodded. "I will be waiting."

She watched Neville leave and sat there, looking into the distance. "Sometimes," she said softly, "It's better not to annoy the Crumple-horn Snorkacks. They have ways to defend themselves that no one knows about."

_**OoOoOoO Harry and Hermione, The Granger home, 03JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Harry was pacing around the living while the other four watched him. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were nervous and Harry's tense anger was not helping them. They had not been attacked during the Voldemort War, thanks to the work Hermione had put into their wards.

Hermione had looked at the way Wizards constructed wards and looked for a way to make them better. It had been a flash of inspiration from her computer that had given her the idea she used to create a completely new type of ward. The Granger ward was a simple idea. Like the wards around the Fish and Hook pub, a Granger ward worked on a password. When the ward was set up, the caster picked a specific word or phrase that acted as a password. In the case of the Fish and Hook, anyone that wanted to enter had to know what the word Muggle meant.

The Granger house though, had a more elaborate password. Any Wizard that wanted to find the Granger house had to know three things. They had to know what the acronym S.P.E.W. meant, what the dues had been to join and what Harry's OWL results for Divination had been. That kept almost all of the Wizarding world away as very few people remembered Hermione's obsession with house elves any more. Those few people that Hermione and her parents were willing to have as guests were sworn to secrecy and told how to find the house.

Hermione had tested the wards by having Bill Weasley try to find the house. It had taken him nearly a week just to narrow it down to a neighbourhood and almost a month to locate the place that he couldn't find. Even then, he couldn't find the house, but only the hole where something should be, but that he couldn't find.

That ward, though, was financing Hermione's studies. Bill had wheedled the secret of the ward from her and shown it to the goblins at Gringotts. Three days later, they had approached Hermione with an offer. If she would allow them to market the ward, they would give her a percentage of every ward sold or installed.

Hermione had agreed, and it was only a couple of months later that she had found out that wards were typically named after the person that created them. Sales of her wards had been slow at first for two reasons. As good as they were, the goblins had set a high price on them, and that limited the number of people that could afford them. Of the ones that could afford them, a lot of them were Pureblood Families, who refused to use something created by a Mudblood.

Sales had picked up after nearly a dozen families had publicly announced their use of the Granger ward. The Potters, Blacks, Weasleys, Zabinis, Longbottoms and Patils, along with a few more names Hermione had recognized from school had been very verbal about the security of the Granger ward. With so many people that had been at the front of the second half of the Voldemort War praising her wards, it had become quite fashionable to have a set of your own.

Hermione and Harry had convinced the goblins to lower the price a bit also. After all, it was better to make twenty Galleons from hundreds of people than to make a hundred Galleons from ten people.

Hermione took a deep breath and forced herself to think about the problem at hand. All of her thoughts about wards and goblins was simply a way to avoid thinking about Voldemort.

"How could he return?" Harry had stopped pacing. He was looking at Hermione. "He didn't have enough of a soul left to try anything like a Horcrux again, so how did he do it?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. A Philosopher's Stone wouldn't bring him back from the dead, and like you said, his soul had been so shredded by making the Horcruxes that he couldn't use any form of soul magic." She thought about it. "I don't know any other way he could have done it, but Dark Rituals to extend life has never been one of my fields of study. I don't even know where to find books about that sort of thing."

Harry blinked. "I do." He started pacing again, thinking about something. Hermione watched him, reading his face as easily as one of her books. Harry was torn between two kinds of danger. He finally looked at her again and then at her parents. "I need to take Hermione somewhere. We'll be back in a day or two. I would tell you where we're going but I can't. I will bring Hermione back safely, I promise."

Hermione's parents looked at each other. Mr. Granger looked at Hermione, biting his lip. "I would say no, but this Voldemort fellow has returned from the dead twice now, hasn't he?" Harry nodded silently. "And you think that Hermione can find a way to keep him in the grave at this place you're going to?" Harry nodded again. "Take care of my little girl, Harry."

"I will."

_**OoOoOoO Neville and the DA, The Longbottom estate, 05JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

"And that's how things stand now. Ron is as safe as he can be, seeing as how he refuses to quit going to his practices and games and Harry told Ron that he was taking Hermione somewhere to do some research. Voldemort hasn't done anything since he announced his return."

Neville looked out at the crowd in the ballroom of Longbottom Manor. He had them in here because this was the only room big enough to hold everyone that had showed up. "The Ministry has activated the Dark Wizard protocols, so that end is going well, but those are mostly passive defences I asked you all here so we could prepare to help Harry with more active measures."

Ron Weasley stood up. "For now, there really isn't a lot we can do. Until we have a target or Voldemort steps out into the open, passive defences are all we can do." He grinned. "I understand that the goblins have gotten a lot of sudden requests for new wards."

Susan Bones stood up. "Harry will be back tomorrow. I'm sure that while Hermione was doing her research, Harry was planning something. I vote we wait to see what Harry wants."

There was a great deal of agreement to that. Neville stood up again. "I think that's a good idea, if you're sure he's going to be back."

Susan grinned. "Harry has classes tomorrow, a DA meeting and the monthly meeting of the Ginny Weasley scholarship fund group. He will be back."

Neville nodded. "I think you're right. Harry has always met his obligations." He looked around. Without Hermione, the best Wizard they had right now was Luna. "Love, would you make a few more Galleons and tie them to the DA Galleons?" Neville grinned at the crowd. "There appear to be a few more people here than there were in Hogwarts."

"Not my fault I was out of school when you started the DA," Bill Weasley said calmly. Almost all of the Weasleys were here, except Arthur and Charlie. Arthur was in the Ministry and Charlie was still in Romania. Most of the Weasley wives were here also. Bill's wife Fleur, Molly, and Penelope, whose marriage to Percy had lasted less than a year before he was killed.

Susan Bones stood up. "While none of us have to worry about teachers or the Minister any more, my aunt asked me to remind you that vigilante groups are frowned on. She will not come looking for us, but if we become too blatant or there is a complaint, she will have to act."

Neville grinned. "Just like old times. We can meet here, unless someone has a better place to meet." No one said anything and Neville nodded. "Right. We may need Harry to plan offensive operations, but we can start watching for the resurgence of Death Eaters. If we can keep their numbers low, that will help from the beginning." He took a deep breath. "The other thing we need to do is make sure we do not allow the terror of his first two campaigns. His name is Tom Riddle and we all know it. Don't give him any title that is not his."

The meeting broke up shortly after that and the guests started leaving. Neville had a list of them all and times when they would be available for Harry. He looked at the list and sighed. Neville was really hoping that none of these names would join the other names on the War Memorial.

_**OoOoOoO The Wizard world, 03-06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

As fast as the Wizard papers were, rumour flew faster. It started with the friends and family of the people printing the Wizard papers and only grew from there. By the time the owls were due to deliver the paper, Voldemort, You Know Who, Tom Riddle was the only real topic.

In Britain, where they knew the horror that was Riddle, people were disappearing under Fidelius charms and Granger wards, hiding away and hoping somebody did something about Him. Panic was taking hold of the population as the word spread that You Know Who was back again. A few people, mostly the DA and Harry's allies from the Battle of Hogwarts were trying to rally the wizards, but every Wizard and Witch over forty remembered the terror of both phases of the Voldemort war and they weren't listening. Businesses closed, or were opened grudgingly, by shopkeepers that spent more time looking for attacks than customers.

The DA, augmented by the people that had joined Harry in fighting Voldemort, tried to convince people that Voldemort was not that scary, after all, he'd been stopped twice before and now he didn't even have the core of his army with him. Bella was dead, Draco Malfoy couldn't join him if he wanted to and almost every other Death Eater was dead. The only people that might support Voldemort now were the ones that had given him clandestine support before and hadn't been caught.

They tried, but fear speaks louder than words and they, like most people, magical or Muggle, were simply not prepared to get in a war.

They all had the same question, though. Hermione Granger's book had been very specific. Harry Potter and You Know Who were bound by Prophecy. Where is Harry Potter?

In the closer countries, France, Spain and others, people were beginning to sit up and take notice of this Voldemort person. He seemed to be truly immortal and if he was, that meant that sooner or later, he would be looking at them. They began looking for information on the Voldemort war and this thing that called itself Voldemort.

Hermione Granger would notice a sharp increase in the overseas sales of "The Voldemort War; An Insider's Story."

_**OoOoOoO Shallaran, Melissa and Dr. Benoit, the Lab, 05JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Shallaran and Melissa watched as Dr. Benoit started the new batch of cells that would become Subject two. Melissa leaned on her husband and sighed. Between the tension of Voldemort's return and this project, neither of them had gotten enough sleep.

Melissa pulled away from her husband as the doorbell sounded. Dr. Benoit looked up, but his assistants were already on their way out of the lab. He went back to what he was doing.

Melissa answered the door with Shallaran standing to one side. "May I help you?" she asked the two men on the other side.

"Melissa Winters?" one of the men asked.

"Yes?" Melissa tensed, wondering what was going on. These two had the look of Ministry officials and she'd never had any good experiences with the Ministry.

"May we come in, Ma'am? We would like to talk to you for a minute. You are not in any trouble at this time."

Melissa sniffed the air. Neither of the men smelled hostile and she stepped back, allowing them to enter the flat. They stepped inside and looked around, spotting Shallaran almost instantly. "Ma'am, we need to discuss something with you of a private nature."

Melissa blinked. "I have no secrets from my husband."

The two men looked at Shallaran and one of them made a note on a parchment. "In that case, we'll get to the point. You must be aware by now that Voldemort has supposedly returned. While we don't think you have any contact with him, we have to check. Also, we are informing all the various near-human races that he used in the last war that there will be no repercussions if he does contact you, if you tell the Ministry."

Melissa blinked. "I see. He has not been around yet." She suddenly frowned. "How did you find this house anyway? It has a very specific Granger ward."

The two men looked confused. "We saw the wards, of course, but they didn't impede us at all."

Shallaran suddenly grinned. "Both of you are Muggleborn, aren't you?"

The two men nodded. Shallaran looked at Melissa. "We'll have to change the wards. Apparently, more of the Muggleborn know what cloning and gene splicing are than we thought."

The two men looked at each other, communicating in the way long time partners could. The first man looked at Melissa. "Do you mind if we ask what you're doing here, that requires so much security?"

Melissa stood up and went to a desk. She took a parchment out of the drawer and handed it to them. "This is all I am allowed to say about this building."

_To whom it may concern:_

_This building is the property of the Potter-Granger Magical Science company and is being used for research by Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Any request to see said research should be directed to them. Attempts to force your way into the sealed sections of the building could be hazardous to your health, and as such, are strongly discouraged._

_Melissa Winters and Shallaran have our complete trust and are under our protection as Mr. Potter's employees. Any problems with them should be directed to Mr. Potter._

_Signed,_

_Harry J. Potter_

_Hermione J. Granger_

The two Aurors spent a minute reading the note. "I see," said the spokesman for the two. "I think we'll just cross you off our list. If you did join Voldemort, you would have bigger problems than the Ministry."

The other one snorted and spoke for the first time. "Pardon my partner. He loves understatement."

The two men rose. "We won't take up any more of your time, Ma'am." They said goodbye and left.

Melissa and Shallaran looked at each other. "That was absolutely surreal," Melissa said wonderingly. "No threats, implied or otherwise, no rude attitudes, not even a sneer."

Shallaran smiled. "I understand that Madam Bones is taking good care of the Aurors. Maybe this is a sign of the changing times."

Melissa stretched. "I hope so."

_**OoOoOoO Harry and Hermione, Harry's Hideout, 05JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

"Hermione, we have to go."

"OK."

"Hermione, you said that thirty minutes ago."

"OK."

Harry sighed loudly. "Hermione, the building is burning."

"OK."

"Hermione, Ron's going to have Draco's baby."

"OK."

"Crookshanks is being eaten by a Crumple-horned Snorkack."

"OK."

"I want to kill Voldemort and take his place. Can I be a Dark Lord?"

"OK."

Harry sighed again. He really should have known better than to bring Hermione here. Between the things and books she'd never heard of, Hermione had spent nearly two hours just looking at the books. She'd looked at a few of the things, but dismissed most of them quickly. She had set the Dagger of Kronos aside for further study, but then she'd started searching the books for any possible way that Voldemort could have kept himself alive.

That had been Friday night. Hermione had taken a couple of naps since then, but for the most part, she'd been deep in the books since then.

Harry sighed again and summoned the book she was reading. Hermione looked up, eyes blazing and Harry prudently kept the book between her wand and himself. "Hermione, I have to get ready for classes tomorrow morning, and I have to patrol the halls tonight, since Professor Lovegood was kind enough to take my turn last night."

Hermione shrugged. "Go ahead, I'll be here when you get back."

Harry shook his head. "No, you wouldn't," he corrected her gently. "If I'm not here, with the ring, the defences automatically kill anyone in the building. Unless you want to stay in the cage?"

Hermione looked over at the bloodstained cage in the corner of the room past the ritual carvings in the floor. "No, that's quite OK. Let me gather my notes and take a couple of books with me."

"I wouldn't do that," Harry said dryly. "I tried to bring you one of the books once, and the wards prevented me from taking the book in a very painful way."

Hermione stared at him and then glared at the building. "I'm going to spend some time next week examining those wards."

Harry shook his head. "Right now, we really have to get going. Get your notes and let's get out of here."

Hermione started gathering her notes. "I cannot believe you have had all this stuff and you never told me about it. There are decades of research here, on just about everything in the world." She stopped and put the Dagger of Kronos away. She stopped for a second, staring at the Dagger. After a minute she shook her head and finished packing.

Harry led the way upstairs and put on the ring that was the Portkey out of here. Hermione took his hand, careful to be touching the ring. "I'm ready, Harry."

They reappeared in the foyer of No. 12 Grimmauld Place and Harry sighed as Mrs. Black started ranting again. "Pardon me, Hermione." Harry crossed to the picture. "Shut up."

The woman fell silent, watching Harry with burning eyes. "Thank you. This is Hermione Granger. She's going to be a regular visitor here. I, as the Head of the Black family order you to treat her with respect and courtesy."

"My lord, you cannot ask this." The picture was staring at Hermione with hatred plain in her face. "She is a--" The painting struggled to say the word, but Harry's orders were plain. "She is not a Pureblood."

"My command stands. Unless you would like to go in the attic?" The painting glared at him and then turned away.

Hermione stared at the picture. "How did you do that, Harry? The Order never could quiet her down."

Harry shrugged. "When I became the last living Black, a room upstairs opened to me, and it had the Black Histories in them. When I read them, I found out that if the current Head of the family gives a direct order, all Blacks have to follow it, or be cast out."

They stepped outside and Apparated to Hermione's home. "I have to go take care of a few things. I'll see you tomorrow after classes. Be careful, Hermione. I would hate to lose you."

Hermione hugged Harry. "You be careful also. You still owe me a date."

Harry stopped as he was about to Disapparate. He looked at Hermione, his eyes oddly intent. "A date?" he repeated.

Hermione blinked, caught in the vivid green eyes that watched her, emotions sharpening the green hues to a nearly glowing intensity. "Two people, one dinner. I believe that is called a date," she temporized.

Harry came a little closer, his errands forgotten. "It is, but it usually means that there are intimate feelings between those two people." He reached out and touched her cheek softly. "Are there feelings between us?"

Hermione shivered at his touch and grabbed hold of her Gryffindor side. She kissed Harry gently on the lips and stepped back. "I can't tell you that, Harry," she said. "I can only tell you how I feel."

Harry stood there, frozen by the feel of her lips and what she was saying. He looked at her and stepped forward. "I can't tell you how I feel," he said, "I don't have the words."

Harry took her chin in his hand and tilted her head up, bending to kiss her as gently as she had kissed him.

Hermione kissed him back and the two lost all restraint. Hermione put her arms around Harry and melted into him, opening her mouth to accept his tongue. Harry felt her surrender and he put his arms around her, holding her tightly as he explored her mouth, kissing her with all the feelings he'd been holding in for the last two weeks.

Hermione met him with equal passion and heat. One of her hands went under his shirt as the other caressed his bum. Harry drew a ragged breath and started his own exploration, running one hand over the smooth muscles and lines of her back. His other hand dropped to match the actions of her hand on his rear.

They stood there lost in the passions they hadn't recognized. Harry was being overwhelmed with the feelings he had thought locked away after Ginny died. Love, protectiveness and desire ran through him and he tried to pull Hermione closer.

Hermione helped him, wanting nothing more than to have Harry be next to her. She broke their kiss and and started trailing kisses, hot fiery touches across his neck. Harry threw back his head, bringing one hand around to cup a bra covered breast. His other hand was firmly attached to Hermione's bum and Harry had no plans to move it.

Hermione slid both hands into his shirt and was tracing patterns on his chest as she pushed the shirt out of her way so she could continue lower with her kisses.

"It's a good thing your father didn't catch you two like this. I don't think his heart could take it."

_**OoOoOoO Harry, at Hogwarts, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Minerva McGonagall watched Harry come in the Great Hall and blinked. After the release of Voldemort's letter and threats to every paper in the Wizard world, she had expected Harry to be wound up tighter than a seventh year student the day before the Newts started.

Harry walked in the Great Hall whistling.

Those older students that had known him while he was a student here stared at him.

The staff that knew him stared at him.

The students that only knew his reputation stared at him.

In other words, everyone was staring at him.

Harry stopped and looked at them all. He looked down and then back up at them. "I'm dressed, my fly isn't open and I haven't been pranked. What is everyone staring at?"

The youngest Creevy boy, a second year Gryffindor, raised his hand. "Professor Potter, you were whistling."

Harry thought for a minute. "Yes, and?"

Professor Flitwick smiled at him. "Harry, I've known you for nine years now and the only time you ever whistled was when you were dating Miss Weasley."

Harry blinked. "Really?"

Professor Flitwick nodded soberly. Madame Pomfrey sighed happily. "Please tell me that it's the young lady that I removed a cat tail from seven years ago."

Harry smiled. "It is."

Madame Pomfrey smiled wider. "Wonderful."

Harry gave her a strange look. "Why is that wonderful for you? I know why it is for me, but why are you so happy?"

She blushed and looked around. "Come see me in the Infirmary later and I'll tell you."

Harry continued up to the staff table and sat down. "Good morning, Headmistress. How was your weekend?"

"Rather boring, until the Prophet came out Saturday morning. How was yours?"

Harry grinned. "Quite boring, until Sunday night. I spent the entire weekend watching Hermione go through an entire library of things she'd never seen before."

"Research for the current problem?"

"Mr. I'm Back Again, yes. We're considering not killing him this time and just covering him in cement and dumping him in the ocean." Harry smirked. "Better yet, I could keep him as a birdbath."

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry. "You don't seem very worried."

Harry looked at her. "Hermione spent fourteen hours attempting to find any method that would allow him to come back again, with only a seventh of his soul. She was searching the blackest collection of books it has ever been my displeasure to see and could find nothing that would do it. Right now, I think he's a fraud, somebody impersonating Voldemort, and that means I don't have to worry about him."

The entire staff table stared at him in shock. So did the students that were close enough to hear what he was saying. Harry looked at them. "Hello? Prophecy? Voldemort is the only person that can kill me. If this isn't him, then he can't kill me." Harry thought for a minute. "If it is him, I've fought him seven times now, and I have walked away every time. The last time I stuffed his familiar up his-."

"Professor Potter!" Harry blushed as Professor McGonagall's voice muted his last word. "Sorry. The point is, I think I can take him again, especially since most of his Death Eaters are gone for good." Harry suddenly sobered and his eyes blazed with an inner fire that sent shivers down everyone's back. "Whoever it is, he should not have threatened Hermione and Ron. I fully intend to show him the error he made before I send him to hell."

Harry's voice was cold and violent and more than one person listening to him broke out in a cold sweat. Harry looked out over the crowd. "In fact, I have something to say to all of you. Some of you, and I am not asking who, may have friends or relatives that quietly support this madman. That is their choice. My choice is that I will kill every single person that follows Voldemort or the being pretending to be Voldemort, whichever it is. I am going to make the very idea of becoming a Dark Lord or supporting one the greatest nightmare in the world." Harry cast an illusion of Draco, as he had been in Hogwarts and as he was now. "When I am done this time, the survivors will be begging for Draco's Curse." Harry looked up, seeing the fear and discomfort on many of the younger faces. "Most of you don't need to worry about this. Those of you who do, know who you are and I can only hope that you pass my warning along to your families." Harry stood up and nodded to the Headmistress. "If you'll excuse me, I have some things to do before the first class." Harry slipped out the staff door while everyone was still looking at the illusion he'd left floating in the Hall.

Outside the door he was met by Richard Gordan, the new Caretaker. "Morning, Professor Potter. Interesting article in the paper this weekend."

Harry glanced at him. "You don't seem particularly worried."

Richard smirked. "I have the advantage, Professor. As a squib, I can see the magic but I live in the Muggle world. If any Death Eaters sorts come by my place, they're going to be very surprised." He grinned at Harry's curious expression. "You ever hear of Mace, Professor? Or tear gas, regurgitates and tranquillizers? Wonderful Muggle inventions, and they work on Wizards just as well as they do Muggles."

Harry nodded slowly. "Do you know about the Friends of Magic?"

Richard Gordan frowned as he searched his memory. "No, I've never heard the name. Why?"

"It's a group of people like you, who live on the edges of the Wizard world. Muggleborns, Squibs, etc. They might benefit from a few lessons from you. Do you mind if I pass your name to Hermione?"

Richard shook his head. "Not at all. I'll be glad to do my part. In fact, I thought you might like to know something I ran across last night. I was prowling around and overheard a conversation. Two students were talking about Voldemort and two things caught my attention. First, they called him the Dark Lord, a term that I thought was mostly limited to his followers."

Harry nodded. "And the second thing?"

"They mentioned a meeting place. Do you know what the Cave of Night is? I've never heard of it."

Harry stopped. "I should have known. I know of it. Hermione, Ron and I snuck into it during the last war and destroyed Voldemort's vampires. It's impossible to find now. I tried, a few months ago and couldn't find it. I suspect it has been put under a Fidelius Charm." He looked at Richard. "Do you know who these students were?"

Richard nodded. "I do, and I thought I might keep listening to their meetings. They think they've found a great hiding place, but I know this castle better than anyone but you."

Harry grinned. "You probably know it better than I do. I just have a magical map, which I would prefer you kept to yourself."

_**OoOoOoO Diagon Alley, Monday Morning, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Those people moving around Diagon Alley this morning moved quickly, keeping their distance from anyone that they didn't have to interact with. They scuttled quickly from one place to another and spent as little time in the open as they could arrange.

In front of Flourish and Botts, the ground split open and a thunderous roar ended in a flash of light and a deafening crack. Smoke billowed up and when it cleared away, four Wizards and one Witch stood there, dressed in the robes of Death Eaters, but without the masks.

Wormtail stood on the left end, smirking.

Severus Snape stood next to him, and even standing still, his robes billowed slightly.

Voldemort stood in the middle of the group, slightly in front of the rest.

Bellatrix Lestrange stood at his right hand and giggled, a sound that sent shivers up the spine of all who heard it.

Lucius Malfoy leaned on his cane next to her, looking bored and sneering in a way not seen in two years.

They stood there and let everyone stare at them in horror for a few seconds. "Bella," hissed Voldemort in that strange voice, "kill four people."

"Avada Kedavra." Bella had the first curse out before her Lord finished speaking.

She had killed the third when they were interrupted. Fred and George Weasley were at the Longbottom estate this morning, planning the DA's actions with Neville, but Lee Jordan was minding the shop when the alarm spread and he Flooed the twins and then came out to see what was going on. Seeing the five standing there killing people, he stepped up and cast a "Reducto" at Voldemort's back.

Lee froze, unbelieving. The last thing he would ever see was the flash of green as Bella spun and cursed him. He would not have been an easy target normally, but watching his spell pass right through Voldemort without touching him had shocked him.

Voldemort looked at the store front where the curse had struck after passing though his chest. "That was a curious feeling," he told the Death Eaters calmly. "It tingled a little, and I could actually feel it passing through me."

He looked around. "It's time to go. I think we've made our point for now. I do wish I could see Potter's face when he hears about this."

The five of them Disapparated, disappearing in the flash of light and smoke again. Those few people that had seen the entire thing shook their heads to relieve the ringing from the thunderous crack that had announced their departure.

Word of the identity of the five spread quickly, as did the story about Lee's final curse.

The third phase of the Voldemort war had started and Voldemort was winning the opening moves. Fear and panic were spreading quickly as word spread that Voldemort was untouchable.

_**OoOoOoO The Author, Here and Now. OoOoOoO**_

_Wow... a chapter under 10,000 words. Amazing for me, but that was just too good of a place to leave off. November is coming, which means NaNoWriMo is here again. Unless I finish my 50,000 words soon, don't expect to see anything from me until after the end of Nov._

_By the way... just to annoy you all, In a magical world, not everything has to be as it appears, as we all know, but this time, it is exactly what it looks like. This Voldemort cannot be touched with magic. Also, a bit of basic information:_

_According to JKR, Harry has to be killed by Voldemort... which can't happen if Voldemort is dead. Harry can be hurt, battered, beaten even... but not killed. He still ages, and will die eventually, as do all men, but only one person could have killed him, and Harry got him first, twice so far._

_We'll see if Voldemort can win the third round._

_Raven_


	7. Life and Death

_First off, the first six chapters have had a minor rewrite and have been fixed of several errors and a few details have been changed. In this story, unlike a couple of others that needed work, nothing that was changed affected the story, so you don't have to go back and read them all. Unless you really want to, of course._

_Right... It's been a while so here's a recap. Hermione is trying to combine science and magic to restore Neville's parents, Harry is a crusading member of the Wizengamot and the DADA Professor and Ron is the Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. The project Harry and Hermione are doing combines cloning with magic and is taking a great deal of their time. However, Lord Voldemort announced his return by appearing in Diagon Alley and killing four people, including Lee Jordan. Harry is not happy about Voldemort's return, since he and Hermione just recently figured out that they love each other and Voldemort has threatened to kill Hermione._

_That said, let's see the reaction of the Wizard world to Voldemort's return._

_**Muggle Magic & Wizard Science**_

_**Chapter Seven**_

_**Life and Death**_

_**OoOoOoO The Wizard World, 06-08JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

It had been just two days since the death of the four people in Diagon Alley and the fear was already sweeping the nation. People were beginning to believe that Voldemort was truly immortal, that he would return from anything Harry did to him.

Between the people hiding and the people fleeing the country entirely, it was a wonder that their were enough people to keep the services up and the British Wizard World running. In just two days all of the assurances gained over two years of peace were gone and that is exactly what this latest incarnation of Voldemort wanted.

His plans depended on fostering that fear.

_**OoOoOoO Harry and Hermione, DMLE, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Harry and Hermione came out of the Pensive and looked at each other for a minute. "It certainly looked like them," Hermione said quietly. Harry nodded. "We've looked at the memory, Harry. Now, let's go into it again, and examine it closely, looking for anything out of place."

Harry nodded and the two of them bent over the Pensive again.

They watched as Voldemort and his followers appeared. "Harry, Voldemort might have been immortal, but none of these others were. How can they be back?"

Harry walked over and stood in front of Pettigrew. He frowned as he looked at him and then got on his hands and knees to look at Pettigrew's feet. "Hermione, he's not touching the ground." Harry looked at the others. "None of them are touching the ground. How do they do that, and why?"

Hermione bent down and looked with Harry. "You're right. It's as if they are spirits or ghosts of some kind, but spectral beings lose any magic they had in life. They can't be spectres and using Wizard magic."

The scene went on and Harry tensed as Lee Jordan cast his spell. Harry was standing next to Voldemort when the spell passed through him. Hermione was watching the spell enter his back and Harry watched as it came out the front.

"Harry, what did you see?"

Harry frowned. "His chest changed slightly as it came out. It kind of got fuzzy for a second and then returned to normal. Other than that, it didn't seem to effect him at all."

"It was the same in the back. He didn't even flinch, despite what he said about feeling it." Hermione came around and they looked at each other. "Harry, what happened to the bodies of the Death Eaters?"

They came out of the memory before Harry could answer and he looked at Amelia Bones. "What happened to the bodies of the ones that were standing with Riddle?"

Auror Bones shook her head. "By law, all we could do was return them to their families." She consulted a sheet. "Pettigrew was given to his mother, Maurice Pettigrew. Bellatrix's body was returned to the Lestranges, Draco Malfoy claimed his father and Snape was taken by the Prince family."

Harry frowned. "I thought the Prince family was gone."

Amelia shrugged. "Few families ever truly disappear, Harry. The head of the Prince family is a third cousin out of a cadet line. We've sent Aurors out to check on each of the bodies and see if they are truly in their graves. If they aren't, the families will be brought in for questioning."

Hermione was making notes. "Harry, I want to look at the memories again, and we need to get Neville in here, and Colin." She frowned as she thought some more. "I don't know who the last person to see Lucius was, but we need to find them and get that memory from them."

She sighed. "I wish we could talk to Remus, as he was the last person to see Pettigrew alive, but we can't." Remus Lupin had killed Peter Pettigrew in the Forbidden Forest. Voldemort had chosen the night of a full moon to make his assault, to maximize the abilities of his werewolves and that had been Pettigrew's downfall. Remus had been out in the forest with the only other werewolf that had joined Harry and they had scented Pettigrew and the Death Eaters he was leading around the back way, intending to use one of the secret passages into Hogwarts.

Remus had gotten Peter, but the Death Eaters had taken Lupin and Janet Brooks, the other werewolf out shortly there after. The two of them had killed nearly thirty Death Eaters between them first, severely blunting the Forbidden Forest group. All of the blood had drawn the Acromantulas and none of the Death Eaters had made it to Hogwarts.

Harry sighed, remembering Remus. "The last person I know of to see Pettigrew was Draco, during Riddle's mission briefing. We'll get him in here. I was the last person to see Lucius alive." He looked at Hermione. "He was the first Death Eater I saw after Ginny died." Harry's face was still and Amelia looked at him, not understanding what was wrong.

Hermione had seen Harry's stone face many times and could read it better than Amelia. She could see something in his face that Amelia couldn't. Harry was disturbed about whatever he'd done to Lucius. "Harry, I need you to do something for me. Write down everything you remember about Voldemort as he was the last time you saw him before he was combined with Nagini. Do the same with Malfoy. I have an idea."

Hermione turned to Amelia. "I need you to get written descriptions and memories from the last three to see the others alive that we can use in a Pensive."

Amelia frowned. "I don't suppose you'd mind filling the DMLE in on what you expect to find," she said wryly.

Hermione blushed and looked at Harry. "Harry, would you get started, please? I don't want you to hear this, it may influence your memory."

Harry blinked and looked at Hermione. "This is one of those Muggle things you're learning at university, isn't it?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "I'll explain it all to you after you've written your descriptions down."

Harry nodded and smiled at Hermione. "You know you don't need to explain it. I trust you."

Hermione smiled in turn. "I know that, Harry, but I like explaining things to you."

Harry smiled and touched Hermione's arm. "Over lunch, then?"

Hermione looked at him and smiled. "I think we may have to make it dinner, Harry. This is going to take a while, and then I have to be at the lab for some time. Nostradamus at eight?"

Harry grinned. "It's a date. I'll make the reservation and get your descriptions done."

Amelia watched them quietly, ignored by them both until Harry left. Hermione turned and saw Amelia smiling. She blushed. "Harry and I are exploring a relationship, but we would appreciate it if it didn't become public knowledge yet."

Amelia Bones smiled. "I am honoured that you trust me enough not to say anything." She shook it off and looked at Hermione, returning to the professional Auror. "Now, tell me about this idea of yours."

"It's simple, actually. I noticed that the five people in the street looked like the people they are supposed to be, but I think that they are composite recreations. I didn't want to say anything to Harry, but Lucius Malfoy was injured in the Ministry incident during our fifth year. Since he was treated by the Aurors on the spot, it left a small scar just in front of his right ear. If you didn't know it was there, you'd never notice it."

Amelia nodded. "Yes, I remember him trying to make a claim that we disfigured him. It was dropped when he went to Azkaban and he never tried again."

"The point is, the memories don't show anything like that, and I think the cane was the one that was taken from him in that same incident, after the Aurors found a poisoned knife in the handle. I think someone was recreating his appearance from the last time they saw him." Hermione frowned. "The only thing I don't understand is how they cast spells from illusions. That shouldn't be possible."

Amelia frowned. "No, it shouldn't," she said quietly and looked at Hermione. "You're a member of the Wizengamot and as such, you have certain privileges. I'm about to tell you something that you may not tell anyone who is not a actively sitting member of the Wizengamot."

Hermione frowned as she thought about it. "So I can tell Neville and Harry, but not Ron."

Amelia nodded. "That is correct." She closed the door and cast several spells on it. When she was done she sat down and motioned to another chair. "Sit down, Miss Granger. This is going to take a while."

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Hogwarts, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

"Professor McGonagall, I need to talk to you, if you have a minute." Harry had written out the descriptions for Hermione and Apparated to Hogsmeade. He had a DADA class after lunch and a DA meeting after that.

Headmistress McGonagall looked at Harry. "Of course, Professor Potter. What may I do for you?"

"With this reoccurring problem we're having, I may have to miss a class or two. I have a possible replacement, if she meets your standards."

"I understand, Professor. I have been expecting you to say something about this for a week or two. May I ask who you want to have replace you?"

Harry sighed. "Before you say anything about my choice, hear me out." He looked at Professor McGonagall. "My choice is well trained, got an O in DADA on both the OWL and NEWT and is currently not working. She is also willing to be on call for any class, with as little as one hour's notice."

Professor McGonagall raised one eyebrow. "She sounds perfect, Professor Potter, but you're asking me to hear you out first makes me nervous, and I notice that you have not given me a name yet."

Harry winced and looked around. Seeing that they were alone he looked at the Headmistress. Taking a deep breath he told the Headmistress who he wanted to use.

"Nymphadora Tonks."

Professor McGonagall stopped and stared at Harry in shock. "Professor Potter, she is."

Harry held up his hand. "I know that she has a problem or two, but she is getting much better and she has almost sixty percent mobility back."

Tonks had been captured by the Death Eaters during one of the last fights before the final attack on Hogwarts and tortured for nearly forty hours before a group of the DA led by Remus and Janet, who were on a search and destroy mission, found her. They were seeking out Death Eater homes and destroying them, limiting the Death Eaters strong points.

The house they had been assaulting was supposed to be empty but Remus and Janet had gone in first, using their werewolf senses to make sure that the house was empty.

What they found was a strong smell of blood and the faint sounds of screaming from inside.

They assembled their people and went in. Remus and Janet had been the ones to find Tonks and the four Death Eaters that had been torturing her. They brought her out and took her to St. Mungo's after destroying the room they had found Tonks in. They never told anyone anything about what they had seen in there, taking that secret to the grave with them. None of the Death Eaters survived the assault.

Tonks had been severely damaged though, spending nearly five months in St. Mungo's recovering from her injuries. Not that there had been a lot St. Mungo's could do for her. Damage from the Cruciatus had destroyed her nervous system and fine motor control. It had also left her completely paralysed from the neck down.

The physical damage had been nothing compared to the mental damage. While no one came right out and said it, it was plain that she had been repeatedly used in several ways and with objects as well as by the Death Eaters. The MediWizards also found evidence of compulsion spells and potions that lowered resistance to mental compulsions such as the Imperious.

Tonks had gone home after the MediWizards had finished doing all they could for her. That had been almost three years ago now and nobody in the Wizard world had heard from the Tonks' since then. It was widely believed that they had turned their back on the Wizard world and gone Muggle, as many of the Muggleborn had done before the death of Voldemort.

Professor McGonagall thought about it. "You think she can do this, Professor Potter?"

"I do. The Tonks family is the last remaining cadet branch of the Black family that I have not disowned for following Voldemort. They withdrew to the Muggle world after St. Mungo's was done for two reasons. Muggle have people that specialize in healing minds and they have a great deal of experience in dealing with the kinds of things that happened to Tonks."

Harry looked at the Headmistress. "I have spent a great deal of the Black fortune on physical therapy, mental health treatments and a great number of other things and it wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference, except for one thing. Tonks' Metamorphmagus abilities. That talent allowed her to change shape many times, and maintain that shape until she went to sleep. Once she was asleep, her body reverted naturally. Somehow, the constant changes managed to repair a lot of the damage the MediWizards and Muggle doctors couldn't do anything about."

Professor McGonagall thought about what Harry had said. "You think she is prepared to teach students?"

Harry nodded slowly. "I do and more importantly, she thinks she's ready to come back as well."

Professor McGonagall stood still and thought about it for a minute. "I will want to talk to her before I say yes, Harry. I have only just gotten the teaching staff in order and I will not approve anyone that cannot do the job right."

Harry smiled. "Thank you, Professor. I'll have her come by tomorrow." He smiled again and looked at his watch. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have less than five minutes to be in my classroom."

Harry started down the hall while Professor McGonagall watched him. She sighed. Harry was trying to save someone again. She turned toward her office, thinking. Harry was not the type of person to allow a substandard teacher to replace him. She would hold her opinion until after she met with Tonks.

_**OoOoOoO Ron, The Chudley Cannons Arena, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Ron watched the Chasers come roaring in and knew which way they would go. Not wanting to give his knowledge away, he pointed his Broomstick slightly in the wrong direction and crouched, as if he was ready to go for the left hand goals.

The Chasers came in, dropping a swap pass from the front Chaser to the second, who headed left. Ron made as if he was going that way until he saw the second Chaser rear back. Before he throw the Quaffle, Ron was moving. The Chaser threw, acting on trained reflexes, but it was too late. Even as the third Chaser got the Quaffle and threw it at the right hand goal, Ron was there to block it.

He caught it and tossed it to one of the second string Chasers who tore down the Pitch, going for a goal on the other Keeper. Ron had a minute to look around and he frowned as he saw the two people circling the Arena in random patterns. To anyone else, they might actually appear to be a pair of Seekers discussing strategy, but Ron knew they were Aurors looking for any sign of Death Eaters.

He knew why they were there, but it still irritated him. Harry was better at fighting than Ron, but that didn't mean Ron was incapable of protecting himself. Just because he wasn't as good as Harry didn't mean he wasn't any good. Merlin, no one else on the planet could say they were as good as Harry either. He sighed and looked at the other end of the Pitch, where the second string had just muffed a pass and dropped the Quaffle. He shook his head as the trainer called the end of practice.

He flew down near the changing room and checked his broomstick before going to take a shower. He was going to Neville's tonight. Neville and he had to work on implementing some of the plans they'd been working on since Voldemort had reappeared.

"Mr. Weasley, this came for you about twenty minutes ago." One of the workers handed him a note. Ron thanked him and opened it.

_Ron, _

_Hermione and I are going into the lab to do some work and then to a dinner in the Muggle world. I'll see you tomorrow._

_Harry_

Ron was irritated for a second, but then he remembered what it was like, in those first few weeks of being with Hermione. They had spent a lot of time in Sirius' house, just talking. Well, OK, so Hermione wanted to talk while Ron was trying to Braille every centimetre of her mouth. Ron was still looking for a girl that made him feel that way. Hermione had been fun, sweet and he had known her for five years. That had been a lot of why he had gotten up the nerve to ask her out, he knew her and she was easier to talk to than another girl.

He grinned as he headed for the showers. He didn't have that problem now, thank Merlin.

_**OoOoOoO Neville and Ron, Longbottom Estate, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Neville answered the door and looked past Ron. "Hello, Ron. I thought Harry was coming with you."

Ron just smirked and handed Neville the note Harry had sent him. Neville read it and looked at Ron seriously. "I am sure that Hermione and Harry will be talking about Voldemort and the lab. I mean, what else could they have to say to each other?"

Ron stared at him, dumbfounded, until he saw the way Neville's lips were twitching. Ron controlled his smile and pretended to consider the matter seriously. "I believe you're right. It's not as if they'd spend the evening flirting or anything."

They looked at each other again and burst out laughing.

_**OoOoOoO Harry and the Docards, the Lab, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

"So, who came up with 'Docards?" Harry asked as they waited to see if the second attempt at cloning Subject two was going to work.

Hermione blushed. "I did. After the two Aurors stopped by to talk to Melissa, they sent an owl with some forms to be filled out." Hermione rolled her eyes expressively. "The Ministry wants to know what we're researching and how much we're making for the taxes."

She looked at Harry. "I hope you don't mind, but I told them that this was primarily a Muggle business and if we made any money in the wizard world we would let them know. I put down that we were researching the possibilities of using wizard blood to create vaccines for Muggles. Since I had to put down titles for our people and they're doing more than either doctors or MediWizards, I called them Docards."

Harry frowned. "Is that possible?"

Dr. Benoit shrugged. "I'm still running tests, but something in Wizards is immune to almost every thing that Muggles suffer from. If I can isolate and recreate it, we may have the so-called 'universal' vaccine. It's going to take a lot more work before I'm ready to try and fool the Muggle world into thinking I discovered something new." He smiled. "In fact, after running a few tests on our friends here and doing a bit of work, after our current project is done, there are a number of things I would like to look into to." Dr. Benoit was becoming animated as he discussed the possibilities he could see.

"Melissa's disease, for example. It is a virus, transmitted solely by saliva to blood contact. To make matters more interesting, it lacks an enzyme that her body only produces in her secondary shape. So, she is only contagious in her altered shape. Now, while she is only contagious then, many of the benefits of the disease are available at all times. Right now, I don't have time, but I want to try and work out a vaccine first and then isolate the benefits of the werewolf shape and see if they can be introduced into the system without the negative side effects."

Harry thought about that for a minute. "Are you telling me that Melissa's condition is not a curse?"

Dr. Benoit frowned. "It might have been, because something like this would never have evolved in anything natural that Muggles know of. However, over time, or by the design of whoever created it, it has become a self sustaining virus. However it started, at this point, I can do something about it I think, with enough work and a bit of luck."

Harry nodded. "Doctor, are you planning on staying in the wizard world at this point?"

Dr. Benoit shook his head. "Harry, you're a nice guy and these friends of yours are decent people, but the racial bias and general attitudes of most of the idiots in your world are not something I care to deal with. Plus, in order to have credibility with the rest of the world, you have to have a reasonable authority that can show their research and facilities."

Harry looked around the makeshift lab that depended as much on magic as it did science. "Somehow, I don't think this is going to impress people."

Hermione and Dr. Benoit looked at each other. "We're working on that, Harry, and as soon as we have a reasonable set up, we'll let you know." Hermione bit her lip. "It's liable to cost a lot and it may require a lot of magic to make it appear that we have enough funds to support Dr. Benoit in the Muggle world."

Harry frowned. "Won't that require us spending a lot of time in the Muggle world?"

Hermione shrugged. "I've thought of that and we're still working on something that will work. I thought I might get Blaise's help."

Harry blinked. "Blaise is a decent person, but he doesn't know anything about Muggles."

Hermione shrugged, saying, "maybe not, but he is a Slytherin, in the classic sense and can help us with the deceptions and offer suggestions in how to trick the world."

Harry thought about it and frowned. "I can't believe that we have to spend as much time deceiving everyone as we do trying to help them."

Dr. Benoit sighed. "It is the one thing that both worlds have in common, Harry. Neither world is willing to believe that anyone would do something for no reason, and in the Muggle world, if you don't charge for it, they think it's a scam or no good."

Harry sighed. Before he could say anything, a timer beeped. Hermione and Dr. Benoit jumped up and went into the clean room where they both glowed for a few seconds as the magic Hermione had created for this room acted as an ultraviolet effect and killed anything they didn't want entering the clean areas of the Lab. Harry stood outside and watched through the window. The lab was set up for working and there wasn't a lot of room. Harry would have been in the way and since he wasn't doing anything in there, he waited.

Dr. Benoit looked at the computer and tapped a couple of keys. "Everything appears correct from here. Would you bring me subject two, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded and carefully removed the small tube from the Muggle device it had been sitting in. Hermione hadn't gotten this far in her research yet, but the machine created the perfect conditions for the cellular division that they had set up.

Dr. Benoit put the tube under a microscope and Harry and Hermione waited for his verdict. He looked up after a few seconds. "We have division. Subject two is working properly."

Hermione smiled. "Perfect. How long before we can move it to the womb?"

Dr. Benoit studied the tube again. "Seven or eight hours. I want to make sure that the early divisions are perfect."

Hermione nodded. "Do you have anything else that you need me for?"

Dr. Benoit looked at Harry and smiled. "Hermione, you don't want to stay and ask a million questions about what's going to happen next?"

Hermione bit her lip, looking indecisive. Harry, who could hear everything over the intercom interrupted the doctor's gentle teasing. "I have to brief Hermione on a couple of things for the Wizengamot, Doctor, and then I have a surprise for her."

Hermione looked at Harry. "What kind of a surprise, Harry?"

Harry grinned at her. "If I told you, it would not be a surprise, would it?"

_**OoOoOoO Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Somewhere, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

"The test run was perfect. Panic levels are at projected levels and it is time for the next attack. Where that attack is depends on the projected levels of panic and fear you want to create." The short chubby man that spoke was watching the leader.

The leader of the group looked up. "I want to create a growing panic. I do not want to confront anyone of importance yet. I should not have been able to feel that boy's curse and until we figure why I did, I do not want to chance this project being uncovered by having one of us hurt by someone with more power."

"I still think it was a reaction caused by seeing the curse go through you." The only woman of the group spoke up.

"But you cannot be sure. Shall I allow you to confront Neville Longbottom alone and see if he can make you feel something besides a tickling sensation?" The leader stared at the woman until she dropped her eyes. "I thought not."

"Internal bickering aside, what is the next target?" The speaker was a tall blonde man holding a cane.

"Hogsmeade is the best place to attack to raise panic levels." This dispassionate comment came from a man dressed in black, who sat in the shadows in the corner. "No people of significant power, and it's close enough to Hogwarts to raise the fear that we may attack it next."

"It will work. Now, let's begin the planning. After that, we'll work on the spells and see if we can figure out exactly what happened."

The five people began planning their attack on Hogsmeade.

_**OoOoOoO Harry and the Hermione, in London. 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Harry looked around the restaurant. It was a quiet little family place with maybe a dozen tables in the main room and three 'private' rooms that were used by families with lots of children and other groups needing or wanting a bit of privacy.

Hermione had brought Harry here and disappeared, saying she'd be right back. Harry looked up as two people appeared in the door Hermione had gone through. He blinked. Hermione's mother had long brown hair, the same colour as Hermione's, but hers fell straight down in ways Hermione never did without massive amounts of magic or hair gels.

The smiling woman walking with Hermione had the same bushy frizzy Hermione had always had, although her hair was much darker. "Harry, this is my aunt Debra. She's my father's sister, and she owns this restaurant. Aunt Debra, this is my friend, Harry Potter."

The older woman raised an eyebrow. "You're bringing a young man to meet the family, Hermione? He must be someone very special." She looked at Harry. "How do you do, Mr. Potter? I'm very pleased to meet a friend of Hermione's."

"I'm fine, ma'am. I think Hermione has some explaining to do, though. I don't recall having heard of you before this." Harry looked at Hermione. "It would have been nice to have been warned that I was going to meet family."

Hermione blushed. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I didn't even think of coming here until after we were at the lab and then the experiments drove it out of my mind."

Debra was watching the two of them. "Harry, before you blame Hermione for this, it is not her fault. My brother and I had a disagreement a couple of years ago and we don't speak much these days. He didn't like the man I chose to marry and I refused to listen to him."

Harry frowned. "That seems like a serious argument," he said carefully, not sure if he was being too personal.

Debra shrugged, a shadow of pain in her eyes. "It wasn't the argument that divided us, but the things we said to each other during it. It was a bitter fight." She shook her head. "That is not why you're here though, so let's find you a table."

"Aunt Debra, can we have one of the private rooms?"

Debra turned to look at Hermione. She took in the way Hermione was blushing and avoiding her eyes. "Well, this must be a very special young man. Room two is not being used tonight. I'll have a server in to take care of you in a few minutes."

Hermione thanked her aunt and led Harry to one of the doors the were along the back wall near the kitchen.

The room was small, and held only a table for four. Soft music came from the corners of the ceiling and the light was provided by a chandelier. Harry held Hermione's chair and moved to sit down across from her, but Hermione stopped him. Hermione had him move a chair next to her and they sat there.

Hermione was getting something out of her bag and Harry took a minute to look at her. Harry had only recently thought about Hermione, or paid any attention to what she looked like. He still could see the bushy haired girl that had been 'charmed' to meet them on the train so many years ago.

This woman though, was not that girl. Her face had matured, losing the slight roundness of girlhood and becoming different. Harry was still learning this new face and he was certain he wanted to have several centuries to examine it and get to know every pore.

Hermione finished what she was doing and looked up, only to be caught in Harry's eyes. Unlike Harry, she had watched Harry grow and change and she could tell what was bothering him almost every time, just by the way he looked. This Harry though, wasn't bothered, just watching her with an utterly open expression on his face. The two stared at each other until the door opened.

They jumped and Harry barely refrained from drawing his wand. "Hello, Hermione. Your aunt asked me to take care of you tonight." The woman, a dark skinned woman of about twenty-five looked at Harry. "Mm. Absolutely yummy. Care to introduce me to my next ex-husband?"

Harry blinked and Hermione laughed. "I would love to, but this isn't him. You keep your paws off of Harry." She shook her finger at the woman. "I know about your ways, and Harry will be fully warned about your attention span, Dora."

The woman sighed. "Slandered, and before I even bring the wine."

Harry watched the two woman and realized that they were friends, although the thought of Hermione having a friend so... earthy was a bit shocking.

"Harry, this is Dora. She's worked for my aunt for a few years, but it's only been the last few months that I've been able to see the humour in her ways. Dora, Harry Potter."

Harry stood and offered Dora his hand. She took it and smiled. "Yummy and polite, too. You sure I can't invite him home, Hermione?"

Harry smiled at her. "I think Hermione might be upset with me if I did anything like that."

Dora snorted. "You? She might be mad at you for a week or three, but she'd kill me."

Hermione smiled sweetly at Dora. "I wouldn't kill you, Dora, that would be over too quick. I'd tell Antonio that you missed him."

Dora winced. "Warning taken. Now, do you know what you want, Hermione? I'll let Harry look at the menu while we chat." She handed Harry a menu and the two women began discussing what was fresh and which cook was working.

While the two women talked Harry looked at the menu and blinked. Most of it was in French and those few things that were not in French Harry had never heard of. He looked at it for a minute, trying to puzzle it out and inwardly cursing the limited applications of a magical education in the Muggle world. He looked at the two women, still chatting and he caught Hermione's eye. "Hermione, since you know the restaurant and the chef, I'll trust you to order something for me."

Hermione blinked and looked at the menu in Harry's hand. She sighed. Dora had brought the fancy menu, assuming that Hermione wanted to impress her date. The restaurant usually served normal English fare, but they had an excellent chef, for business dinners and special occasions. "No problem, Harry."

Hermione went back to discussing the food with Dora and Dora left a few minutes later. Hermione looked at Harry. "Relax, Harry. I ordered some good food, and some food you'll like."

Harry pouted at her for a second, and then grinned. "I couldn't tell what any of that stuff was. I was afraid I'd order snails or something equally meant to be potion ingredients rather than food."

Hermione choked on the water she was taking a drink of. "French food is not meant to be potion ingredients, Harry. You need to expand your Muggle education, or someone might mistake you for an American."

Harry shrugged. "If I can ever find a few days when I can do something that doesn't have to do with politics, Voldemort or the wizard world, I will."

Hermione sighed. "This is not Voldemort, Harry. Amelia told me something after you left, but we cannot tell anyone who is not a sitting member of the Wizengamot what I am about to tell you."

Hermione waved her wand and a spell that prevented eavesdropping sprang into being. She looked at Harry and began to talk.

_**OoOoOoO Aunt Debra, her office, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Debra looked at her monitor as it erupted into static. She hadn't meant to be eavesdropping on Hermione, but the monitors had been put in place after a couple of incidents had gotten out of hand in the private rooms and her insurance rates had started going up. She considered what she'd heard and put together a lot of half understood things over the last few years. Hermione had always had odd things happening around her as a child, but it wasn't until she went to that school in Scotland that things got really strange.

Harry's mention of a 'wizard world' was strange, but with the things she'd seen over the years, it made sense. Her brother had to know, and that meant Hermione's mother knew as well. If Hermione was some sort of witch, that would explain so much. Why her brother had let her go to a school no one had ever heard of in the scientific community, why Hermione had seemed so out of touch with current fads after she started going there. Harry's comment and Hermione's response about 'Muggle' things made Debra think that wizards didn't pay any attention to non wizard folk.

Debra had been wondering about some of the strange things for years, but she'd ever had any reason to think of something like this. She was not as smart as Hermione or her mother, but she was bright enough to to build a profitable restaurant from a lunch counter and keep it going.

This bore thinking about.

_**OoOoOoO Harry and Hermione, the private room, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Harry closed his eyes for a minute after Hermione finished speaking. "So, the Aurors were working on a way to cast spells from illusions so that Aurors would not have to face Death Eaters directly. They had a working prototype of the rune set that would allow it, but then this Lattimer Foster ran away with the rune set and the notes to work on it after he was caught doing something illegal."

Hermione nodded. "Part of the rune set allows the person using it to form the illusion in any image they want. The idea was to make the Death Eaters think that they faced some sort of supernatural entities."

Harry nodded. "What else can you tell me about this rune set?"

Hermione looked at her notes. "It's short range, about four hundred metres or so. The group using it has to be about that close to use the spell casting abilities. Since the rune set and the people don't have to be in sight of the illusions, they could be in a building, in woods or even in the open under a disillusionment spell." She considered the list. "One of the group has to monitor the rune set, so only four of them can cast spells with this bunch."

Harry frowned as he thought about it. "And I can't tell Ron about this, but I can tell Neville." Hermione nodded. "I'll see Neville tomorrow and we'll see if we can get some tactics together. It's going to be hard to explain why we need people to look somewhere else while the battle is right out in the open."

"Harry, what did you think of the play last night?"

Harry blinked at the odd question until the door opened and Dora came in. Harry nodded and they discussed Hamlet as Dora set the food up. She left with a smile and a wink for Hermione.

Hermione looked at Harry. "No more talk of violence or politics while we eat."

Harry nodded and they set to eating. Harry had a ploughman's pie, good solid fare and he kept looking at whatever it was that Hermione was eating. She saw his glances and smiled as she held up a bite on her fork. "Would you like to try it, Harry?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something and Hermione put the bite in his mouth. Harry ate it and shrugged. "It's different, but not anything I'd care for on a regular basis."

Hermione smiled slyly. "I would think not. Escargot is very expensive."

Harry frowned. He'd heard that word somewhere before and then it came to him. "Snails? You fed me a snail?"

Hermione burst out giggling at Harry's outraged tone. "Of course not. I just wanted to see the look on your face."

Harry stared at her for a second and then very deliberately wiped a bit of gravy on her nose.

Hermione looked shocked for a minute and then tried to glare at Harry, a task ruined by the smile she couldn't hide. "Prepare to do battle, Potter."

Dinner devolved into to a minor food fight, interspersed with giggles, laughter and a great deal of childish fun.

Harry finally ended the fight by catching Hermione with her hands spread out and leaning in and kissing her.

Hermione didn't resist. Her arms came around Harry and she responded willingly.

The two of them were so engrossed in their second real kiss that they didn't even notice Dora opening the door, spotting them and then backing out quietly.

The two of them finally finished the meal and had dessert, spending as much time feeding each other as they did kissing, interspersed with quiet talk about a dozen things, none of them depressing or very important.

When they finally finished, Harry took Hermione home and in the little room that was the Apparation point, they stopped for one more kiss and Harry screwed up his Gryffindor side as he held Hermione and looked at her.

"I love you."

Hermione stared at him for a second and smiled. Harry wasn't the type of person for florid displays or long speeches. "I love you too, Harry."

A kiss became several, and Harry was grinning foolishly by the time they finished. Hermione was nearly glowing with joy and both of them had slightly swollen lips, the result of a long snogging session.

Harry waited to leave until Hermione had gone in the house and the last thing either of them heard as they turned back for one last look at each other was the simultaneous declaration from the other.

"I love you."

Harry never did get to show Hermione his surprise that night.

_**OoOoOoO Draco Malfoy, his flat, 06JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Draco sat and stared at nothing, something he'd been doing a lot recently. Harry Potter had ended any chance Draco had of being someone. Now, he was an object of ridicule and hatred, spit on and cursed at by everyone. It had not taken him long to figure out he couldn't do anything about whatever people did to him and he had become resigned to the fact that one day, someone was going to kill him.

Until Harry had admitted to protecting him. Draco couldn't understand that. Harry hated him as much as anybody else in the wizard world and Draco could understand that. He had cast the Imperious on Ginny Weasley and led her to Snape. He had set into motion the entire chain of events that led to her death and ultimately, the defeat of Voldemort.

He had considered the idea that Harry was only keeping him alive to torment him more, but he reluctantly gave up that idea. That simply wasn't Potter's way.

Draco was looking at a new idea. Harry had said two things at that damn dinner function that had started this chain of thought for Draco. He was protecting Draco while Draco was under Harry's curse and he didn't know exactly how he'd done it.

Draco had become an object of pity for Harry. That thought burned like acid on the young man's pride. He was a Malfoy. They were feared, loved, hated or viewed with terror, but never pitied.

He looked around at the one room flat that was all he could afford to rent with the money he made at the temporary and odd jobs that was all he could get. He didn't have a bed, just a pile of blankets he had salvaged from the stuff no one had wanted when he sold the contents of Malfoy manor to pay the insanely high bribes that it had cost him to stay out of Azkaban. His one table had only three legs and was stuck to the wall with a spell to keep it from tipping over. His chair was the most expensive thing he had, having saved it from the manor.

It had been charmed to always be the right size and shape for what was needed and had comfort charms on it as well. It had been in his room as long as he could remember and Draco had vague memories of his mother teaching him to read, curled up in that chair with Draco on her lap.

Draco couldn't afford new robes and the ones he had taken from his home were threadbare and far too large now. Harry's curse had made him lose twenty centimetres so far and showed no signs of stopping.

He had thought it was ironic that he was now dressed the same way Potter had come to school all those years, in clothing far too large for him, but he'd realized that Harry hadn't even noticed.

Draco sighed and stopped thinking about his things to face reality. After Harry had said he could stop this curse by changing, he'd tried. Merlin, how he'd tried. He had been so certain that he could become like everyone else, because he had never failed at anything important before.

This time, he had failed. Draco simply could not stop hating Potter and the others that had ruined Voldemort's plans for a better world. The truth was, he didn't really want to. Hate and belief in his superiority had defined Draco for as long as he could remember and he didn't want to believe that he was less than anyone.

And now, there was this new wave of terror. He'd spent half the day in the Ministry going over everything that he remembered about Snape. It hadn't taken much listening to understand that his father was once again doing things that would bring even more scorn and hate down on Draco. He was going to have to try and hide even more, and that would mean even less work. He snarled. His father was working right into Potter's hands. If this kept up, he'd have to take Potter up on the kennel boy's job at Malfoy manor. He snarled again. He'd rather starve.

Draco sat and thought long into the night. Finally, he came to his decision. He couldn't change and he couldn't continue like this. That left him just one option. He got up and went to his desk and opened the drawer. He took the small vial out of it, ignoring the drawer that fell on the floor.

He wouldn't need it again. He went to his chair and curled up in it as it shifted and became an large overstuffed chair, just right for lounging in. He looked at the vial for a long time. It had been his father's last resort, but Lucius had never had a chance to use it.

Draco stared at the poison and finally uncapped it. The sweet smell of figs filled the air and he downed the entire vial in one quick gulp. The poison was painless, sending the imbiber into a deep sleep from which they would never awaken.

Draco sighed. If it was going to hurt him, he could not have taken it, as Harry's curse prevented him from hurting even himself. Since this didn't hurt, the curse did nothing. Draco settled back to go to sleep, knowing that the poison wouldn't finish the job until he was asleep.

As he lay back, staring at the dingy ceiling, the thought crossed his mind that this would hurt Harry, who felt such pity for him.

Instantly, Draco was racked with pain, convulsing and shaking as pain roared through his system. He tried to call for help, anything to make the pain stop, but the large soft chair and the pain made it impossible for him to get up and his wand was on the desk.

Draco's apartment was silenced and warded, to prevent people that wanted to hurt him from finding it. Since the poison wouldn't kill him until he slept, and it was the poison that was causing the pain, Draco couldn't do anything.

The pain grew and grew, sending Draco into convulsions that twisted him until bones snapped and still he could nothing but scream.

Draco Malfoy spent seven very long days screaming his life away before the lack of sleep forced him into slumber, despite the pain.

His body would not be found until the land lord came looking for his rent on the first of the month.

_**OoOoOoO Harry, Various places, 09JAN2000. OoOoOoO**_

Harry frowned at the piles of things he was looking at in the Potter vaults before replacing them.

He had already been to the Black vault and hadn't found what he was looking for there either.

He cast an illusion over himself, and went into Diagon Alley. None of them were good enough.

By noon, Harry was getting very frustrated. Who knew it would be so hard to find a simple, beautiful but elegant, absolutely perfect engagement ring?

Harry had realized during their dinner date that he wanted to spend several centuries getting to know, love and simply be with Hermione and he was now looking for the first step on that path.

He wanted to do this right though, so he'd started looking for a ring that would show Hermione just how he felt without being so huge as to be gaudy. The Black rings were mostly in a medieval style, and far too baroque for Hermione.

The Potter rings were not as flashy, but almost all of them were purely wizard style rings with enchantments and spells on them. That was nice, but Hermione was regularly in the Muggle world and she needed something she could wear there as well, and a ring with magic holding it together just wouldn't place. The animated ones, with runes or letters crawling over them were out as well.

He wasn't even going to think of some of the ones that had little pictures inside the bands. Some of those moving pictures had made him blush.

He was walking through Diagon Alley when he remembered something from his seventh year at Hogwarts. A new business had opened in Hogsmeade, a jeweller that had a lot of the girls babbling about his skill and work.

Harry strode to the Apparation point and disappeared.

He reappeared on the path in front of the Shrieking Shack and started toward Hogsmeade. Harry was excited and happy, in a way he'd not been, well, ever. He was walking quickly down the path and smiling, thinking of what he had to do. Buy the ring, talk to Mr. Granger, (a thought that brought a short lived cloud to his face,) Ask Hermione the question. That thought made him smile again and as Harry entered Hogsmeade, he was the picture of a carefree man. He stopped a witch as he entered the main street.

"Pardon me, could you tell me where the jeweller is, please?"

The witch looked at the illusion Harry was wearing and smiled. "Of course. Looking for a special ring are you?"

Harry just smiled and the witch pointed him in the direction of the store.

Harry started off that way and was just passing Gladrags when there was a crack of thunder and five figures appeared from a crack that opened in the road.

Voldemort and his crew stood there. Harry stared at them for a second and then dropped his illusion and started toward them. He'd been having such a nice day. Someone was going to pay dearly for this.

He put one hand in his pocket and brought out his DA Galleon. He touched it with his wand and sent a quick message.

Voldemort looked around as people started to recover from the shock and run. He opened his mouth to say something but he never got the chance.

"Hello Tom. I've been hoping for a chance to kill you again." Harry's amplified comment brought everyone to a stop.

Voldemort and his crew turned to see Harry standing in the middle of the road, his wand in one hand and another, darker wand in the other. Harry held that wand up. "Recognize this, Riddle? I kept it as a trophy the last time I killed you. Care to try and take it back, or would you rather try and scare a few people who don't have the power we do?"

Lattimer Foster was swearing in the private room they'd rented from Rosemerta. "What is he doing here? It's a Saturday and he doesn't have the patrol today. He should be where ever he goes off to."

"Does it matter?" The one witch in the group hissed. "We have to leave, now."

"No! I didn't want to take him on yet, but if we run, the fear will be lessened. We have to kill him now." He thought for a second as he manipulated the illusion of Voldemort. "When I say so, I want everyone to cast a killing curse at him. Harry Potter is good, but I don't think he can block four killing curses at once. If he does, it will be because he uses that stone shield spell the Granger woman came up with. You all know what to do in that case."

Out in the street, Voldemort sneered at Harry. "Killed me? You can't kill me, Potter. I am immortal and I will always be back. You, on the other hand, only need to die once."

Harry smirked. "I think you've tried to kill me more than thirty times, Tom. Of course, it might help if you or your help were even mildly competent, which hasn't happened yet."

Harry took a minute to look at the others. "I do have to thank you, Tom. I have often wanted to kill some of the people you had several times, and now I get the chance to kill you all, again. Lucius, do you remember the last time I saw you?"

The blonde with the cane sneered. "You were merely lucky, Potter."

"Lucky? Is that what you call it? I think I kicked your butt and left you to be torn in two by the suits of armour in the hallway. I understand you were in several pieces when they found you. Nice to see someone on your side can do a jigsaw puzzle."

Harry felt the DA Galleon in his pocket grow warm and knew that Neville and the DA squad that had been waiting for Harry's call was here.

Harry and Neville had set up plans for the next appearance of Voldemort the day after Harry and Hermione's dinner date. They would have the DA members that were available waiting at Neville's and ready to respond at a moment's notice. Their job was to find the rune set. Neville was in charge of that, since he was the only person that knew about it besides Harry.

All of Harry's talk was just a delaying tactic until the DA found the rune set and put Apparation wards around it, as well as other wards to prevent the escape of Foster and his people. Harry looked at the others.

"In fact, all of you look really good, considering the ways you died. Pettigrew, weren't you eaten by the spiders in the Forbidden Forest? Bella, I know Neville ripped your lungs out, bursting your chest like a grape."

Harry felt a shiver of anger as he looked at Snape's face. "You had your guts wrapped around your legs, the last time I saw you, Snivellus. Honestly, I was surprised you had guts. I always thought you were a spineless coward." He smiled at Snape. "I've been saving a very special spell for you, Snivellus. It's a nice spell, meant to render a beetle down for potion bits. It normally doesn't work on humans, but I think I have the power to make it work."

Voldemort sneered. "I don't think so, Potter. Kill him."

The other four raised their wands and cast in unison. "Avada Kedavra." Four green bolts shot toward Harry.

Harry had been expecting something like this though, and raised the stone shield spell that Hermione had invented or adapted three years ago. It took less power than simply creating a stone shield, and the ground trembled as a sixteen centimetre thick wall of stone exploded out of the ground and took the impact of the killing curses with a loud roar.

Even as Harry prepared to cast another spell, the four people with Voldemort put their wands away and held up their hands at chest level. They twisted one hand into a claw like form and clenched the other fist. Together, they all cast a second spell. "Gorrkash."

Harry's shield was hit with four spells and it exploded, sending masses of shrapnel back at Harry, who simply had no way to duck or dodge the sheer volume of stone flying at him.

When the dust from the destroyed stone wall cleared, everyone stared. Harry Potter lay in the street, half covered in rock, with bits of sharp edged stone sticking out of him in a dozen places. His right arm was broken in at least one place, and his legs were buried under larger chunks of stone. Blood was pooling around his left side, blood was splashed everywhere, and Harry didn't move at all.

Voldemort watched him for a second. "I knew having that goblin teach me their stone blasting spell would come in handy. I have won this time, Potter. Will you get back up to fight again? I think not."

The five of them disappeared with the roar of thunder, leaving a silent village to stare helplessly at Harry.

_**OoOoOoO The Author, Here and Now. OoOoOoO**_

_Just so you know, do not expect to see many chapters of less than 10,000 words from me. I'm leaving this here for two reasons. First, it's been so long since I posted anything on this story that I wanted those of you who have been following it that I have a new computer again and will be back to my normal schedule of posting, such as it was._

_Second... Did you really expect me to pass up a cliffie like this?_

_As a side note, all of you Draco fans can just deplore the fact that I killed him. Canon Draco is a worthless git with not one redeeming feature. He's snide, biased, hateful, arrogant, and doesn't even have the courage to do what he needs to do to be a serious menace. He can't even kill helpless people, for Merlin's sake. Committing suicide when faced with something he can't buy his way out of or live with is very much in character for that worthless bit of mindless fluff._

_Raven_


End file.
